The Tower

As he looked, Jade turned in a full circle. When he'd returned to his starting position, he headed toward the house. He moved forward and sideways, never taking his eyes off the front door.

If Allander's here, he's watching me right now, Jade thought. And something told him that Allander was expecting him.

The chopping of a helicopter sounded overhead. It approached swiftly, its searchlight zooming across the landscape. It would pick up Jade's car and direct the backup. Anger swept over Jade. He wanted this one alone.

He walked boldly up the front walk to the house, then sprinted for the door. Clearing the three stairs, the small porch, and kicking down the door with a single flying leap, he landed beside the door, inside the foyer, balanced in a boxer's stance.

He stood motionless as the dust settled around the stark interior. The furniture covered with dust cloths and the rolled-up rugs leaning in the corners of the rooms made the house look like it belonged in a ghost town. Tools lay scattered about the floor.

A small mound of dirt was fanned in a semicircle at the base of the stairs. Jade walked over to it and pinched some in his fingers, raising it to his nose. Fertilizer. Probably tracked in during the landscaping makeover. He rose from his crouch and looked up the stairs.

Complete silence. Outside he heard another rumble of thunder, closer now.

Jade moved quickly, overturning the covered desks and chairs, smashing doors open and kicking through closets. He ran upstairs and sprinted from room to room. There were no signs of life.

Only the master bedroom remained to be searched; he looked down the length of the hallway at the closed door. With his Sig Sauer leading the way, Jade stalked toward it, cushioning the sound of his footsteps by walking toe to heel.

The door left its hinges entirely when he kicked it, crashing to the floor. The light from outside was fading rapidly, and much of the bedroom was cloaked in shadow.

An antique mirror stood in the corner of the room, next to an enormous maple wardrobe with intricately carved handles. Jade aimed his raised pistol at the wardrobe. He was ready. He approached it slowly.

His finger was white-knuckled against the trigger as he nosed the wardrobe door open. It swung outward on creaky hinges. He leaned back and fired once into the dark interior. A single wire hanger dangled from the bar, lit with the flash from Jade's shot. That was all.

The house was empty. It had all been a wild-goose chase. In his excitement, he had forgotten that the green paint and remodeled house only had been part of a theory, and that this had been one of only several possible houses.

Rage filled his body, and he spun to face the room. Catching his dim reflection in the mirror, he glared at himself-his hard, green eyes, his ineffective body.

Cursing, he hurled the pistol at his reflection. The mirror shattered and the wooden board behind it swung to the side like a window shutter, held there by two bent nails. As the mirror fell away in shards, it seemed that Jade's reflection still remained, his eyes peering back at him. Then the eyes blinked when his did not, and a smile crept across the face of Allander Atlasia.

Chapter 56

T H E element of surprise decidedly in his favor, Allander stepped through the shattered frame and pounced on Jade, pressing the point of a screwdriver to his throat. Jade swallowed roughly as the probing tool dug into his Adam's apple.

Allander smiled. After all this time, he and Jade were together. Here at the new house. His house. Allander felt a chill teasing his legs, and his testicles tightened. The dance had begun.

The noise of sirens outside escalated, and red-and-blue lights flashed through the window. Jade tried to talk, but the screwdriver was pressed so tightly against his windpipe that he only choked.

He looked into Allander's face, savoring the feeling of his flesh against his own. After so much distance and time, the two men were finally touching. The beat of Allander's heart pounded in Jade's ears, and for a moment, he could not distinguish it from his own.

"Not a movement, not a word," Allander hissed in his ear. "At last, Marlow, we're together. I know you've waited desperately for me to come out of hiding. Or should I say, out of repression."

Jade saw the dried blood covering one of Allander's knuckles where his shot had grazed him in the restaurant. There was another smudge of blood on Allander's cuff, but it was lighter, a cherry red. It looked like paint.

Jade struggled again to speak, twisting his neck until he could force out a few words. "Kill me if you're going to. Just don't waste my fucking time."

Allander eased the pressure from the screwdriver just enough for Jade to continue.

"You're done, Atlasia. We got cars, agents, 'copters. And you've got a fuckin' screwdriver."

"And your gun, Marlow. And your gun." Allander reached for the Glock tucked in his jeans.