tunnel. Then he turned toward Gina, and his jaw tightened. He stared upon her as if she were a disobedient child—as if he ruled this world—a world Gina did not know and shouldn't know.
Without any words he walked toward a corridor that Gina hadn't noticed. "Wait a second!" she shouted. "Where are you going? Hey! Don't you think I deserve an answer!"
He was gone in the tunnel, and Gina spent six seconds to find the SIG and then rushed after him.
Gina found him kneeling over ... something.
It took a second for her to recognize that it was a human being. Because whoever it had been was torn into huge, ragged, bloody chunks of meat, like a slaughtered bull. The walls in this chamber were bright enough—horrible enough—to make the entire room appear black, though she knew it was blood painted across the walls, pooling upon the floor, thick and vicious, hurled in heavy handfuls across the ceiling.
Gina knew that it had been a man—a big man—but she could determine nothing else.
"Who is it?" she asked.
Michael's voice was somber.
"Molke."
Gently Michael laid a hand on the body and Gina saw that Molke's head was still barely attached to his neck and shoulders, though the lower part of his body was eviscerated. She barely caught Michael's words.
"I'm sorry ..."
Gina closed her eyes for a single brief moment so she could come to terms with this—whatever it was. She opened them when she heard movement.
Michael stood over the body.
Eyes opening fully, Gina took the whole of him into focus. His exceptional physicality was accepted but she had not yet come to terms with the brute strength that had snapped an iron spike like a candy cane.
She had once witnessed a New York Special Agent – not a big man but one completely enraged over losing custody of his own children to his shrew of a wife – when he snapped three iron spikes off a fence. But afterward he couldn't remember doing it, and when asked to repeat the feat he only cut his hand.
But for some reason she believed Michael knew exactly what he had done and could do it anytime he wished. Finally he turned to her. He glanced at the SIG and shook his head.
"That won't save you."
"Yeah," Gina replied, surprising herself with her own calm, "I already figured that out. So what will?"
Michael walked toward a staircase.
"Time for you to leave."
***
A heated argument was already raging when Gina entered the Great Hall.
Josh and Rachel ran toward her screaming and Gina knelt and held them until they finished asking questions, comforting them. Rebecca was close behind. She had been a surrogate mother during the rampage. With a quick glance Gina said to her, "Thank you."
Rebecca nodded, then sat next to her father.
Gently Gina wiped tears from the faces of her children and hugged them close and tight. Then she rose slowly, holding their hands. She walked them back to the dais and sat them down beside Jaqual, always close. The monk seemed to have taken to them like a big brother. Gina lifted her face toward him.
"Watch them."
"Yes, ma'am."
"No!" shouted Josh.
Gina knelt again. Gently, she brushed his hair from his tear-slicked face. "Baby, I have to go talk to these men. I'll only be ten feet away. You’ll be able to see me every second." She stared him in the eyes. "I'm not leaving you, Josh. Not ever."
She let those words settle and glanced at Rachel to make sure the older girl was adapting well enough to the stress. Then she focused again on Josh. "You hear me, baby? I'm never leaving you."
Josh nodded slightly. With a grimace Gina turned and walked toward the group of men.
Melanchthon was arguing forcefully with Father Stephen and then the monsignor joined. Miguel stood nearby the three of them, and then brushed past her, obviously frustrated. "Not that it matters with all this snow, Gina," Miguel said, "but something has destroyed the engine of our bus."
Gina studied him. Miguel shrugged then jerked his head toward Melanchthon, Father Stephen, and
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