Chapter Twenty-One
The road nearest the cathedral had been blocked off and was now a chaotic scene lit by flashing lights. Bryn sat on the edge of a gurney inside an ambulance, wincing as a paramedic taped his ribs while Gunnar paced nearby.
“Hold still,” the paramedic said. “You have extensive bruising and I’m making an educated guess that you have some cracked ribs. If you had a run in with one of those monsters, you’re lucky that’s all you’ve got.”
“Lucky is my middle name,” Bryn said, then caught Gunnar’s glare. “What? It could have been worse.”
“It shouldn’t have happened at all,” Gunnar said. “You’re turning my hair gray.”
Before Bryn could respond, Agent Bell appeared in the doorway, looking like he’d been through a blender. His suit was torn and there was dried blood on his shirt. A black eye was blooming and his lower lip was swollen. One arm was in a sling.
“What happened to the arm?” Gunnar asked.
“Someone tried to rip it off,” Bell said. “I was lucky. The agent that intervened has a skull fracture.”
“What about Beth?” Bryn was worried. She’d taken a hard hit.
“She has a headache and a sprained wrist, but she’ll be fine. She asked after you two, actually. Wants to thank you for drawing that enhanced bastard away from her.” Bell pinched the bridge of his nose. “Doc wanted to sign her off but she said she types with one finger anyway.”
Bryn nodded. “Good. That’s good. I thought everyone typed with one finger. Except Emmett, of course.”
“What was the body count in the cathedral?” Gunnar asked.
Bell’s expression darkened. “Fifteen casualties, but it could have been much worse. I have a lot of walking wounded. We managed to take down four of the super-soldiers, though it took everything we had. Two escaped in the confusion after Russo…fell…out of that window and stopped giving orders.”
“Escaped how?” Gunnar’s voice carried a dangerous edge.
“They just…ran,” Bell admitted. “Faster than we could chase them. We had perimeters set up three blocks out and they still got through.” He shook his head. “We’ve never dealt with anything like this before but we’ll track them down. They don’t exactly blend in.”
“What about the Kozlovs?” Bryn asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
“That’s…complicated.” Bell glanced around, then lowered his voice.
“Katarina Kozlova saved half the people in that cathedral. She’s a damn good shot.
When Russo’s men came through the doors, she was first to react, almost like she was expecting something.
She bought time for her family to escape and for our people to get into position.
She didn’t make it, but she passed knowing Russo was dead. I told her.”
“The rest of her family?”
“Kozlov senior had a massive heart attack. He’s dead. Three other family members are in critical condition, but they might survive. The organization will be in a mess, but not extinct. They won’t be causing problems anytime soon.”
The paramedic finished prodding Bryn and stepped back.
“You’re done. Take it easy for the next few weeks, and if you experience any difficulty breathing or sharp pains, get to an ER.
You’re not showing any sign of a punctured lung so x-rays aren’t necessary.
Cracked ribs don’t always show up anyway. ”
“Thanks,” Bryn said, awkwardly pulling his shirt back on.
Bell’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it and sighed.
“That’s my boss. I need to get back and start writing reports that no one will believe.
” He paused. “We’ll be dismantling what’s left of Russo’s operation over the next few weeks.
Those two guys that got away are a priority, but we also need to shut down the remaining drug labs and round up his lieutenants, if they haven’t already hopped flights to Bogota. ”
“What about the Thanacrine formula?” Gunnar asked.
“We should be able to recover new samples from the bodies here. Our scientists are already working on analysis from the raided labs, trying to figure out how to counteract it. If we can develop an antidote or neutralizer…” Bell shrugged.
“It would level the playing field. Best case scenario is that the drug has died with Russo.”
“Let’s hope that’s the case,” Gunnar said.
Bell nodded. “Before I go, I want to say that was good work today. All of you. If you hadn’t confirmed the truth about Russo’s plan from our informant, we’d be looking at a body count in the dozens.”
After Bell left, Giles appeared. “Ready to go home?” he asked.
“Where did you disappear to?” Gunnar asked.
“Went to call Warden. I gave him a quick update.”
“I’m more than ready to leave,” Bryn said, sliding off the gurney. “Let’s go before Bell decides there’s someone left alive he wants me to read.”
The ride back to GCR headquarters was quiet. Bryn dozed fitfully against the passenger window while Gunnar drove. Giles occupied the back seat.
“You know Warden’s going to have words,” Giles said, breaking the silence.
“I know,” Bryn replied without opening his eyes.
“Strong words.”
“I know.”
“Loud words.”
“I get it, Giles.” Bryn rubbed his neck, trying to ease an ache.
Gunnar pulled up outside the front of the converted brownstone saying that it was easier to get to the front door rather than dealing with the back entrance. By the time they made it to the door, Emmett was already there, bouncing on his toes.
“Are you okay? Is everyone okay? I heard there were casualties and gunfire and…”
“We’re fine, Emmett,” Gunnar said. “Bruised but fine.”
“That’s good. I was worried. Warden wants to see all of you in his office. I’ll find someone to move the car.”
“Yeah, I should have gone around back,” Gunnar said, “but it’s farther to walk and Bryn has cracked ribs.”
“Oh, ouch! It’s no problem. I was looking out for you.”
They made their way inside, Bryn trying not to wince with each step.
Warden’s office door was open, and he was standing behind his desk, his expression ominous.
On his desk, Bryn spotted what looked like an evidence bag containing a white envelope.
Oh no. It can’t be. After this shit show of a day, I do not need this.
“Before we discuss your unauthorized heroics,” Warden said, “the FBI found this in the cathedral, tucked behind one of the prayer candles near the altar.” He held up the evidence bag. “It’s addressed to you, Bryn. From Dr. Templeton.”
Fuck my life. “He was there?”
“Him or his messenger. We don’t know when the letter was placed there but it probably happened after everything was over and Russo’s men were gone.
Bell’s people are reviewing all the CCTV footage, but with everything that happened…
” Warden shook his head. “He could have walked in and out in the chaos wearing a clown suit and we’d never have noticed him. ”
“What does it say?” Gunnar asked.
“I haven’t opened it yet.” Warden set the bag down. “We can deal with this tomorrow if you’re not up to it, Bryn.”
Bryn stared at the letter, feeling a familiar chill. It was possible that Everard Templeton had been watching him. Had probably been observing the mayhem unfold.
“I need to see it now.”
Warden nodded. “Very well.”
“You do it.”
Warden slipped on a pair of latex gloves then opened the evidence bag. The letter was written on the same expensive cream paper as the previous ones, in the same precise handwriting.
Warden read aloud, “‘My dear Bryn, what a fascinating afternoon this has been. It has been some time since I witnessed such beautiful anarchy. You continue to surprise me with your courage, though I worry you’re becoming reckless. A mind like yours should be preserved, not risked in such crude, violent circumstances. Mr. Russo’s creations lacked artistry.
True power lies not in brute strength but in understanding the human psyche.
I look forward to our eventual meeting. Until then, do try to be more careful. Yours sincerely, Everard.’”
The office fell silent.
“He was watching,” Bryn said. “The whole time, he was watching.”
“We’ll increase security,” Warden said.
“He’s getting bolder.”
“All the more reason to keep you safe,” Gunnar stated.
“What he said,” Giles agreed.
“I won’t be a prisoner because of him,” Bryn said. “I don’t think any security, short of a locked cell, will deal with him. There are enough restrictions on my life already.”
“We can talk about appropriate measures,” Warden said. “Now sit, all of you.” He gestured to the chairs in front of his desk.
“Special Agent Bell called twenty minutes ago and gave me a preliminary report,” Warden began. “His story was similar to what you had already detailed, Giles.” His gaze fixed on Bryn. “Though Giles glossed over your little solo mission to confront Russo.”
“I was trying to…”
“You were trying to get yourself killed,” Warden cut him off. “Again. What possessed you to charge into that building without backup?”
“He was directing the operation. I thought if I could get to him…”
“You thought?” Warden’s voice rose. “You thought you could take on Russo and whoever was with him with cracked ribs and no backup?”
“I had backup,” Bryn protested. “Gunnar showed up.”
“Eventually. I was a little busy, if you recall,” Gunnar said. “Do you have any idea what I felt when I fought my way out of that van and realized you’d disappeared?”
“You did tell me to run. You didn’t specify where to. Besides, it worked out.” Bryn sulked.
“By sheer luck!” Warden slammed his hand on the desk. “You could have been killed, Bryn. Or worse, you could have been captured again. Do you understand what Russo would have done to you?”
Bryn shifted in his chair. “Yeah, well I think I annoyed him too much because he just wanted to kill me. I know the risks of this job.”
“No, you don’t,” Warden said. “Because if you understood the risks, you wouldn’t keep taking them. This isn’t the first time that you’ve gone off script and put yourself in unnecessary danger.”
“I’m not fragile.”