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be in the basement level.
Tolson s gaze flickered between the two Commandos in panic, before an icy
coldness settled over him.
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Why couldn t you Commandos just follow the damned orders as they were
given? He drew a small, sleek weapon from his pocket, and Tamia gasped as she
realized he was holding a Saber an energy weapon developed in the closing days of the
Divide, and never produced in large quantities. As Tolson flicked off the safety, and the
unmistakable hum and crackle of energy gathering filled the air, Tamia braced herself.
She d read about what Sabers could do, and she d always been glad they hadn t come
into use in the Divide; that war had been bloody enough. One beam from a Saber was
supposed to be able to sever a limb, or slice anything less armored than a Tank clean in
half.
Tolson aimed the deadly end of the weapon Rick s way. You were supposed to
do your job, Carinson, not play superhero again. You should have found the evidence to
take Horner and Panfild out of the picture. But you weren t supposed to find the girl.
Why not? Tamia wanted to know. She was interviewing Horner when she
disappeared.
No, Rick supplied quietly, his glare never leaving Tolson. She wasn t. It
didn t make sense at the time, why she was frightened by an interview with Horner. And
our last conversation, on the phone& He shook his head. None of made any sense
until I remembered our last mission conversation, John. You said you were under
pressure to do it quietly. And then all the pieces fell into place.
Tolson scowled. Someone tipped the bitch off to the Jaosantai project. She had
to go.
Tamia gasped as his words sank in. You re the moneyman for the Jaosantai?
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Tolson laughed darkly. Hell, no!
But it was your job to make sure that no one ever found out, wasn t it, John?
Rick took a step forward, his eyes glittering dangerously. But then you got greedy.
As Rick took another slow step forward, Tamia caught the flicker of his gaze
toward his pocket. Finally, she understood why he d slipped that small polytech
throwing knife into his jacket pocket before they d left the Underground. He d been
prepared for this. What did he know that she didn t?
You decided the kickback from Horner wasn t enough, Rick said quietly. You
wanted the power, too; you wanted to be known as the man who made the arrest of the
century. But that meant no one could know what you d already done, and Horner
couldn t ever learn what you were doing.
Tamia grimaced. Rick was right; it all made perfect sense. But it still didn t tell
them who their Mole was. Tolson was greedy, but he didn t have the connections to pull
of a weapons heist, or half of the moves the Mole made. Either he wasn t the Mole, or he
had an accomplice in a place of real power.
Tamia kept her eyes trained on Tolson s weapon as she slipped up beside Rick
and slid her hand surreptitiously into his jacket pocket. Her fingers closed around the
smooth handle of the knife even as Tolson s finger tightened on the trigger.
Go ahead, Rick growled. Kill us. But you re going to have a hell of a time
explaining that weapon, and two dead Commandos in your office. We don t sweep under
the rug as easily as one reporter might.
I ll come up with something. Tolson flicked the discharge button.
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Rick dropped down, even as Tamia whirled to the side, narrowly avoiding the
pencil-thin beam of superheated energy that sizzled past her arm. In one smooth motion,
she hurled the palm-sized blade, sending it sailing across the office to lodge in Tolson s
right shoulder. He screamed, dropping his weapon as he clutched his wounded shoulder.
Rick had the Saber and was on his feet even before Tolson s scream died out.
Pressing the weapon against the other man s head, Rick turned to Tamia. Call security
up here, and Pete Wilson at the FBI building. He s going to want a chat with our old
friend, here.
And, resetting the weapon s safety, Rick brought the smooth titatone implement
across the back of Tolson s head, sending the older man crumpling to the floor.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The phone was ringing insistently as Rick and Tamia entered Rick s quarters that
afternoon, following hours of questioning by the FBI. Rick snagged it immediately, and
listened intently to the caller. The grim, ashen look that crossed his face told her who the
caller was, even before he disappeared into the bedroom with a quiet, I understand.
Tamia waited tensely, her eyes closed and her heart pounding harshly in her chest.
The call was about Jean. She knew it without having to ask. Hands against her body,
reassuring herself through even that contact with her child, she prayed that Jean was
awake, and getting better. Tears slipped loose as she felt memories rush over her. She
knew exactly what Jean O Neil was going through. Gang rape was an old and familiar
demon in Tamia s psyche; her very first sexual experience had fallen into that category,
and the memory still had the power to make her wretched with fear.
It seemed a lifetime before Rick emerged from the bedroom, still with the same
grim look on his face, but his eyes less clouded than before. Hope blossomed in Tamia.
Hope that Jean would prove as strong as she was; that the redheaded reporter who was
Rick s friend was also a survivor.
Tamia watched silently as Rick hung up the phone. Finally, she drew a deep
breath and asked, Well?
He sank down next to her on the sofa with a sigh as he reached for her hand.
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She s still on critical, but they think she ll survive. Maybe even get over the trauma,
eventually. He played with her fingers absently, his eyes fixed on what he was doing,
for a long moment before speaking again. I never thought I d see this happen to Jean.
Not after the war was over.
She squeezed his hand gently. When d you meet her?
He shrugged. Long time ago. We went to high school together, back in Boston.
She was the smart one, the talented one. How she ever got stuck hanging around idiots
like Tom and I, no one could figure out. Tom McCormac was my best friend, and she
was his girlfriend, so she got included in a lot of the stuff we did. Wasn t long before I
started thinking of her as nothing more than one of the guys. She was easy as hell to
talk to like a buddy. We kind of hit it off that way, but there was never anything
romantic about it. We were friends.
Rick grimaced, regret flashing in his eyes. Only, Tom didn t see it that way. He blew
up at me one day, and accused me of trying to steal his girlfriend. Stupid kid shit. But I
made the mistake of laughing in his face; I knew Tom had a hair-trigger temper, and I
should have known better. He shook his head with a sigh. Things got out of control so
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