Nurse Innes picked up on the tension and nodded slowly. “Please stay here, Miss Barkley.”

The Fed didn’t blink. She didn’t answer, either.

Nurse Innes led him to the door through which they’d come, into the hall and then into a supply closet. “What is wrong with Miss Barkley?”

He didn’t answer her, just put down his duffel, drew his silenced gun and shot her in the head. When she fell, he shot her a second time.

Grabbing the duffel, he left the closet in time to see Miss Barkley halfway down the hall. He caught up to her and pressed the barrel of his gun to her back. “If you run, I’ll kill you,” he murmured. “Then I’ll go into that solarium and kill every single patient. Not all of them are criminals. A couple of them are kids. You okay with them dying, too?”

She was ramrod stiff. “What do you want?”

He patted her down, finding no wires. Which made no sense. They’d have her wired somehow. Keeping the gun firmly at her back, he checked out her front. She flashed him a hate-filled glare, turning her body toward him in an awkwardly stiff way.

Her pendant caught the light and he abruptly realized that was where she’d hidden the camera, so he yanked it from her throat. She stiffened, but made no other noise. And because her glasses reminded him of his ruined shot at Mercy, he grabbed those and broke them in two.

DJ tossed the necklace and the glasses into a trash can, then answered her question. “I want you to come back to the solarium with me and push Pastor’s wheelchair.”

“And then?”

“Seconds are ticking, Miss Barkley. Or should I say Agent Barkley? Do as I say or I will kill everyone in that room and then blow up this whole building, including the little kids.”

Her jaw tightened, but she nodded and turned back to the solarium.

As soon as they entered the room, he saw that Pastor was glaring. “What is the meaning of this? What are you doing here?”

DJ shoved his gun harder into Miss Barkley’s back, hiding the movement with his duffel bag. “Move,” he murmured. “And be casual. If anyone notices, everyone here is dead.”

She obeyed, gripping the handles of the wheelchair so tightly that her knuckles whitened as she pushed Pastor into the hall.

“DJ!” Pastor snapped. “What is the meaning of this?”

“We’re going for a ride, Pastor,” DJ said. “The Feds have surrounded this place.”

Pastor gasped. “Hurry.”

Miss Barkley was a cool customer, DJ thought. She hadn’t panicked. Wasn’t crying. She was, in fact, acting like a real nurse.

“He shouldn’t leave the facility,” she said. “He’s not ready medically.”

“You can come with us and take care of me,” Pastor said. “It’ll be okay.”

DJ pushed the woman to walk faster and, again, she obeyed. Pastor really was going senile. He hadn’t put together that his nurse was one of those Feds.