can do. God. Poor Hunter."
"Who did this?" Andre said. "Why was he killed? You say it was on your account?"
"I'm afraid so," Bennett said. "It must have been an accident. A horrible misunderstanding. There was no way he could have known. They must have thought that he was someone else. Yes, there could be no other explanation. They—"
"Who?"
shouted Andre. "What kind of misunderstanding could have led to this? What could he not have known? Tell me, this instant!"
Bennett stared at her. "Yes, I'll tell you. I can't condone it any longer. They've gone too far. I've made a terrible mistake and now my friend of many years has paid for it. I'll tell you, but I don't know what in God's name we can do about it now."
"Precious little, I'm afraid," said another voice. Andre saw Bennett's eyes widen even before the man spoke and she was already spinning around to face the threat, but she was too late. She felt a sharp blow to her side and she fell into the bedroom, off balance and carried by the momentum of the kick to land at Bennett's feet. The rapier fell from her hand and clattered to the floor. She lunged for it, but Bennett stopped her.
"Don't!" he said, stepping on the sword with his foot.
"Are you
mad
?"
"I'd listen to the good doctor if I were you," the man said. She saw the little tube in his right hand. It was a weapon, one she didn't understand, but she knew what it could do. Hunter had shown her once. A deadly light that could cut through steel. The same light that had burned through the lock on her door could burn through her flesh as easily as a hot knife passing through fresh butter.
"A good thing Adrian decided to keep tabs on you, Doc," the terrorist said. "Seems like your commitment's slipping. We can't have that."
"Let the woman go, Silvera," Bennett said. "She doesn't know anything."
"But you were about to fix that, weren't you?" said Silvera. "No, you're expendable, Doc, but I'm afraid she's not. I got her partner, but Adrian's going to want this lady alive. We need to find out how many more of them there are, and where they are, and what they know."
"She's not an agent!" Bennett said.
"You'll have to do better than that, Doc."
"She's not, I tell you! And neither was he," he said, pointing at Hunter's body. "He was a friend of mine! He was in the underground!"
Silvera nodded. "That's what he kept saying. It makes for a good cover, doesn't it? He was good, I'll give him that. He didn't talk. But I think the lady will. Adrian's a little better at persuasion than I am."
"Silvera,
listen
to me! You're making a mistake, I swear it! Kill me, if you must, but let her go. She doesn't know a thing, she's a D.P., she's harmless to you!"
"Then why were you going to tell her everything?" Silvera said. "If she's not an agent, what good would it have done? Sorry, Doc, I'm afraid you're not very good at this game. It's too bad, really. You've been very helpful—"
For a moment, his eyes were not on Andre. That moment was all she needed. She reached behind her quickly, to the back of her neck, where hung a slim dagger in a sheath suspended from a thong. In one fast motion, she drew the dagger and hurled it. It buried itself in the terrorist's larynx. He fell, gurgling horribly, the laser beam cutting a crooked swath across the ceiling. She leaped to her feet and ran over to the fallen terrorist, kicking the deadly tube out of his hand. Then she kneeled by him, grasped the knife, and gave a vicious, sideways slash. Hunter was avenged.
Bennett stared at her, his jaw hanging slack. Andre went over to him and shook him, getting some blood on his shirt. "We cannot stay here," she said. "I understand none of this, but I understand the danger all too well. Collect your wits, Jack Bennett. We must flee."
Bennett came out of it. "Yes, you're quite right, we must. I have friends who will hide us. But we can't simply cut and run. We can't leave two bodies to be found in your apartment. We'll have troubles enough without
"Who did this?" Andre said. "Why was he killed? You say it was on your account?"
"I'm afraid so," Bennett said. "It must have been an accident. A horrible misunderstanding. There was no way he could have known. They must have thought that he was someone else. Yes, there could be no other explanation. They—"
"Who?"
shouted Andre. "What kind of misunderstanding could have led to this? What could he not have known? Tell me, this instant!"
Bennett stared at her. "Yes, I'll tell you. I can't condone it any longer. They've gone too far. I've made a terrible mistake and now my friend of many years has paid for it. I'll tell you, but I don't know what in God's name we can do about it now."
"Precious little, I'm afraid," said another voice. Andre saw Bennett's eyes widen even before the man spoke and she was already spinning around to face the threat, but she was too late. She felt a sharp blow to her side and she fell into the bedroom, off balance and carried by the momentum of the kick to land at Bennett's feet. The rapier fell from her hand and clattered to the floor. She lunged for it, but Bennett stopped her.
"Don't!" he said, stepping on the sword with his foot.
"Are you
mad
?"
"I'd listen to the good doctor if I were you," the man said. She saw the little tube in his right hand. It was a weapon, one she didn't understand, but she knew what it could do. Hunter had shown her once. A deadly light that could cut through steel. The same light that had burned through the lock on her door could burn through her flesh as easily as a hot knife passing through fresh butter.
"A good thing Adrian decided to keep tabs on you, Doc," the terrorist said. "Seems like your commitment's slipping. We can't have that."
"Let the woman go, Silvera," Bennett said. "She doesn't know anything."
"But you were about to fix that, weren't you?" said Silvera. "No, you're expendable, Doc, but I'm afraid she's not. I got her partner, but Adrian's going to want this lady alive. We need to find out how many more of them there are, and where they are, and what they know."
"She's not an agent!" Bennett said.
"You'll have to do better than that, Doc."
"She's not, I tell you! And neither was he," he said, pointing at Hunter's body. "He was a friend of mine! He was in the underground!"
Silvera nodded. "That's what he kept saying. It makes for a good cover, doesn't it? He was good, I'll give him that. He didn't talk. But I think the lady will. Adrian's a little better at persuasion than I am."
"Silvera,
listen
to me! You're making a mistake, I swear it! Kill me, if you must, but let her go. She doesn't know a thing, she's a D.P., she's harmless to you!"
"Then why were you going to tell her everything?" Silvera said. "If she's not an agent, what good would it have done? Sorry, Doc, I'm afraid you're not very good at this game. It's too bad, really. You've been very helpful—"
For a moment, his eyes were not on Andre. That moment was all she needed. She reached behind her quickly, to the back of her neck, where hung a slim dagger in a sheath suspended from a thong. In one fast motion, she drew the dagger and hurled it. It buried itself in the terrorist's larynx. He fell, gurgling horribly, the laser beam cutting a crooked swath across the ceiling. She leaped to her feet and ran over to the fallen terrorist, kicking the deadly tube out of his hand. Then she kneeled by him, grasped the knife, and gave a vicious, sideways slash. Hunter was avenged.
Bennett stared at her, his jaw hanging slack. Andre went over to him and shook him, getting some blood on his shirt. "We cannot stay here," she said. "I understand none of this, but I understand the danger all too well. Collect your wits, Jack Bennett. We must flee."
Bennett came out of it. "Yes, you're quite right, we must. I have friends who will hide us. But we can't simply cut and run. We can't leave two bodies to be found in your apartment. We'll have troubles enough without
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