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Keiko was going to die.
There was no getting around it. The weapon that would kill her was strapped around her head, and she’d done everything within her meager power to piss off the woman who had her finger on the trigger.
She supposed she should have spent her time thinking about all the things she could have done with her life or remembering all the people she loved and would miss—her parents, friends, sister, colleagues… The list was endless, making her realize just how blessed her short life had been. But, as important as all those things were, the only thoughts in her mind were of Mace.
Where was he? What was he doing? Was he okay? Her eyes roamed the sky for the bat, feeling relief when she found it. He was alive. That much was certain. But what state was he in? What if he needed h
er?
She’d never felt more helpless in her life, and she hated it. No, she hated Susan Neal and the Freedom terrorists for putting her in this situation. She hated them for killing Abigail and all the other innocent people in their quest to be heard. She hated CommTECH for their underhanded practices and their disregard for human life. She hated all of it.
She wanted to go home.
How pathetic was that? She didn’t even know where home was anymore. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t go back to her apartment and carry on as usual, pretending she didn’t know what CommTECH was doing or that people would be hurt because the company was more interested in profit than lives. But the truth was, she didn’t want to go back, anyway. She wanted to stay with Mace.
And that’s when it hit her.
She’d fallen in love with him.
If the gag hadn’t been in place, she would have laughed. All these years of joking that a Viking was her perfect man, and it turned out she was right. She loved his strength, his courage, his honor. She loved his sense of humor, the way he cared for her, and the way he thought about things. She even loved that he was fighting in the shadows, doing what he could to survive in a world that was alien to him, as he struggled to come to terms with being so very different.
She loved Mace Armstrong.
And if it had happened fast, it was because they’d lived a lifetime since they’d met. She wasn’t stupid. She knew if she chose Mace, she was turning her back on her life. He lived on the fringes of society, and she would have to live there, too. But she’d been living in the light her whole life and had discovered that there wasn’t anything of substance there. Maybe it was time to try the shadows along with Mace.
In that strange moment, as the sun peeked over the horizon and the light of a new day flooded the earth with hope, a tear slid down Keiko’s cheek. She’d thought life was defined by achievements, but it wasn’t. It was defined by whom you loved and who loved you. She’d loved Abigail and had been blessed to call her a friend. And she loved Mace. A new, fresh, fragile kind of love that wouldn’t have time to grow.
Because she was going to die.
A hand rested on her shoulder, and she looked up to find the polite man watching her.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I was wrong. None of this is worth your life. I-I was hurt. Bitter. I believe in Freedom. But not in this.” His face was a picture of devastation as he looked around the terrace, as though he were seeing the damage he’d wrought for the first time.
With the silencer across her mouth, she couldn’t answer him. But, strangely, she understood. She could see how easy it would be to get caught up in the fight against the people you blamed for taking it all. Yes, she definitely understood. So she nodded at him and hoped he saw it for what it was—forgiveness.
“Get the cameras ready,” Susan shouted across the terrace. “It’s time to contact the great Miss Shepherd, and I don’t think she’ll have what we want.” Her cold smile fell on Keiko. “Your death will be on her shoulders. It will show the world that CommTECH cares nothing for its people, not even its precious press secretary.”
The hand on her shoulder tightened at the words, and Keiko did the only thing left in her power to do. She stared at the woman who would kill her, letting Susan Neal see her defiance. She would not die cowed. She would not die intimidated and afraid. She poured her disdain, her judgment, and her pity into her gaze.
And Susan was the first to look away.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Enforcement Special Response Unit
CommTECH Research Facility terrace
Houston, Northern Territory
Daniel Mercer reached the doors leading out to the terrace and held up a fist, signaling for his team to wait and remain silent. They would advance on Miriam’s signal and not before.
Behind him, in the entrance to an office, a grunt sounded, then a thud. Charles had dispatched the last Freedom fighter on this level. And, as usual, he’d taken his time doing it. Daniel glanced over to see his brother swagger out of the office, wiping the blade of his knife on the thigh of his pants. His face held an approximation of a smile. It was the only time he attempted the expression. After he killed.
“Is it time yet?” Charles said as he came to stand beside Daniel.
“Nearly.” He glanced at his brother, only to see that Charles’s focus was on something beyond the door to the terrace.
