Part 29 (1/2)

44.

Talia let out an ear-shattering scream. It took Flint a moment to realize that a word was buried in that sound.

”Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!”

She raced across the cafeteria and launched herself at the man behind Flint.

”G.o.d, Talia, no,” Flint said. ”Go away. Go away!”

But his words were doing no good. She landed on the man's back, her hands pulling his hair, her knees pressing into his kidneys. The man's face turned red.

Flint had no choice. He elbowed the man on the other side of him, then reached for the guy in front of him and slammed him into the Peyti's table. The guy to the right reached for Talia, but she had somehow gotten the guy she had attacked to turn and turn and turn.

As Flint punched the man on the Peyti's table, he realized that Talia was biting the other guy on the ear. The man Flint had elbowed was standing up. Flint kicked him in the stomach, figuring a second hit would help.

That man had been the one with the jammer, and for a moment, Flint's links kicked back in. He sent a message along the emergency links; then he sent one-he hoped-to Nyquist: Ki Bowles's killers have come for me- The jammer went back on. The man who had done all the talking held it up like a prize. The law students had backed away from the fight, but Flint knew they had to be sending for help as well. Flint reached for the jammer, but the man pulled it out of his reach.

Then Talia screamed.

The man Flint had kicked in the stomach had pulled her off the first man's back. That man's ear was bleeding. It looked like Talia might have ripped part of it off.

Talia was spitting blood into the face of the man who held her. She wasn't screaming at all. She was shouting, and flailing at him, trying to get him to let go of her.

Flint went for the man holding her. Then the man with the b.l.o.o.d.y ear pulled her away and put a laser pistol to her head.

”We wanted you to cooperate, Mr. Flint,” said the man with the jammer.

Flint did not turn around to look at him.

”We wanted this to be a nice, polite little conversation. We'll take you to our boss, and you'll talk, and then you can leave.”

”I don't go with anyone unless I know who I'm going to talk to,” Flint said.

The man with the jammer laughed. ”Nice try. But I'm not going to tell these fine students where we're going.”

He turned toward them, waving the jammer like a weapon.

”Mr. Flint and his daughter will be fine. You can tell the police that. And tell the police that the attack came from the girl. She's out of control. We're just going to get her some help.”

”No!” Talia said, still kicking at the man holding her. ”Dad, stop them. Stop them. Don't worry about me.”

As if he could do that.

”Regretfully, we've been told that the loss of this girl here isn't all that important,” said the man with the jammer. ”I understand that there are replacements? She's not unique, am I right?”

Talia flushed and immediately stopped flailing.

”She is unique,” Flint said.

The man with the jammer laughed. ”Then you'll protect her. And the best way to do that is for both of you to come with us. Calmly.”

Calmly. As if Flint could be calm. But he didn't see any choice. He had to trust that Nyquist got his message. He had to hope that he was right-that these thugs were from Wagner.

But he didn't really know.

”If someone comes,” he said to the law students, ”tell them-”

”You'll tell them that there was a fight and it got settled,” the man with the jammer said. ”Don't try anything else, Mr. Flint. I've heard you're pretty smart. But we have the weapons. And that lovely child whom you think is unique. So behave.”

”Dad,” Talia said, her voice filled with tears. But her eyes weren't. She was pretending to be limp so that he could try an attack. She was letting him know that she was ready.

He shook his head ever so slightly.

”We'll come with you,” Flint said. He really didn't see any other choice.

45.

Romey was already inside the interrogation room when Nyquist arrived. He switched off all but his emergency and police links as he approached the door, just like he did every time he conducted an interview of this magnitude.

But his personal links gave a cheep of protest. A message had come through.

For a moment, he debated checking it. Then he decided it could wait.

He stepped into the interrogation room. The room was normal temperature, which he hadn't suspected. All of the environmental controls were at normal levels. Usually interrogators tried to make the subject uncomfortable.

It seemed Romey was doing the opposite.

”Detective Nyquist,” Romey said as Nyquist closed the door. ”This is Pelham Monteith. He headed the security team for Ki Bowles.”

Nyquist was about to say, Well, that worked Well, that worked, when something in Romey's face caught him.

”Mr. Monteith is about as upset as I've ever seen a man. He's never lost anyone he was guarding before.” Romey was finessing the guy, and she clearly wanted him to do the same. ”We've been talking about procedures from Whitford. They're proprietary, but Mr. Monteith is willing to tell us what the systems are so long as we keep them confidential.”

Monteith was nodding. The crown of the man's head was s.h.i.+ny with sweat. He almost seemed relieved that someone was treating him with respect.

Nyquist gave Romey a surprised look. He'd never seen this kind of interview work before, but he was willing to give it a chance.

”He was about to tell me about the poor guard who died trying to save Ms. Bowles,” Romey said. ”Enzio Lamfier,” Nyquist said, trying to make his voice as sympathetic as he could.

”Yeah,” Monteith said. ”I didn't know him well.”

”Was he a new hire?” Romey asked.

”New to our team,” Monteith said. ”Illiyitch recommended him.”

”Gulliver Illiyitch?” Romey asked.