The Tenth Justice (51 page)

“Are you okay?” Rick asked, holding Claremont by the belt.

Looking over the edge, Claremont struggled to hold on to Lisa, who was dangling outside the window. “Y-yeah,” Claremont said.

“No! Don’t!” Lisa screamed as her hands grabbed Claremont’s wrist. Her face and arms were covered in hundreds of tiny, bleeding cuts. “Please don’t drop me!”

Without the momentum to reach the pool, Lisa would fall directly onto the tiled atrium, where a crowd had already started to gather. “Drop her,” Rick said.

“What?” Claremont asked.

“Please don’t!” Lisa screamed. “Don’t drop me!”

“Drop her, and let’s get out of here,” Rick said. “I’ve had enough of this nonsense.”

Still, Claremont held on to Lisa’s handcuffs, his arm tensing from the weight.

“I said drop her,” Rick demanded. “What’s wrong with you? We were going to kill them anyway.”

With all his strength, Claremont held tight.

Rick pulled his gun from his waist and pointed it at Claremont’s head. “You’re not Richard Claremont. Who the hell are you?” Lifting his arm, Claremont started to pull Lisa to safety. Rick pulled back the hammer on his gun and pressed the gun against Claremont’s head. “You have three seconds to tell me who you are. At the end of three, you’re both going out this window. One…two…”

“Ben!” Lisa screamed. Rick spun around to a blast of white foam. As Rick rubbed his burning eyes, Ben ran into the corridor wielding a fire extinguisher. With his wrists still handcuffed, Ben swung the fire extinguisher like a baseball bat and slammed Rick in the side of the head. Rick stumbled backward and fell to the floor. He fired his gun, and a jagged pain ripped through Ben’s left shoulder. He’d been shot. Staggering forward, Ben swung the fire extinguisher again, this time knocking the gun out of Rick’s hands.

Ben struggled to swing the fire extinguisher one more time, but the pain in his shoulder was impossible to ignore. Seeing the blood that rushed down his arm, he felt faint and dropped the extinguisher.

“Hurts like a bitch, doesn’t it?” Rick asked, stumbling to his feet. “The next one’s going in your head.”

Holding his shoulder, Ben looked down the hallway and saw Rick’s gun lying on the floor by the elevators. He looked back at Rick, who was almost standing.

“GET THE GUN!” Claremont screamed, pulling Lisa to safety.

Ignoring the gun, Ben raced toward Rick. Grasping his hands together, Ben swung wildly at Rick’s head. When his handcuffs struck Rick’s face, Rick staggered backward. As Ben moved in to hit him again, Rick slammed his fist into Ben’s gunshot wound. Ben screamed, clutching his shoulder. Rick looked down the hallway at the gun.

Fighting the urge to collapse, Ben saw Rick move toward the gun. Once again, he ran at Rick, plowing into him from behind and knocking him to the floor. Rick turned on his back and tried to fight his way free, but Ben stayed on top of him. Ben grabbed Rick by the throat and pinned him against the floor. “You greedy bastard!” Ben screamed as Rick thrashed wildly. “You killed Ober!”

“He killed himself,” Rick coughed.

“NO!” Ben screamed, banging Rick’s head against the floor. “YOU KILLED HIM!” Ben tightened his grip around Rick’s throat. “YOU WANT TO SEE HOW OBER FELT? YOU WANT TO FEEL HOW HE DIED?” Rick swung at Ben’s head, attempting to remove his attacker. Ben wouldn’t budge. Rick punched at Ben’s bloody shoulder. Ben didn’t move. The more Rick fought, the tighter Ben’s grip. Eventually, the coughing stopped and the struggling ceased—Rick was finally unconscious. But Ben didn’t let go of Rick’s throat. “You killed my friend!” Ben sobbed as rage slowly erupted into tears. “I’ll kill you for that!”

As tears rolled off Ben’s cheeks, Rick’s face turned beet red. Ben clenched even harder. With Rick’s life in his hands, Ben remembered his last conversation with him. “You want to see me break the rules?” Ben growled as blood continued to flush Rick’s face. “Here’s what I think of your damn rules.” Holding fast to Rick’s throat, Ben remembered Rick’s boasting. And Nathan’s beating. And Lisa’s bleeding. And Ober’s hanging.

Ben sobbed and, staring down at Rick’s swollen face, he let go: “Ober! I’m so sorry!”

A small cough emerged from Rick’s lips. Mentally and physically exhausted, Ben collapsed on the floor, his ragged breathing punctuated by sobs. It was finally over.

As Ben lay on the floor, holding his shoulder, the elevator arrived. When the doors opened, Alex DeRosa got out with half a dozen armed U.S. marshals.

“Everybody out,” DeRosa yelled as his men fanned into the hallway. Two of them handcuffed Rick, while two others ran to check on Lisa and Claremont.

“Are you okay?” DeRosa asked Ben, helping him to his feet.

“What the hell is this?” Ben asked, confused. “You were here all along?”

“Sorry about that,” DeRosa said as he unlocked Ben’s handcuffs. “Rick was watching you full-time this whole week. We didn’t want to risk anything.”

“Risk anything?” Ben yelled, rubbing his wrists. “We were almost killed! You lied to my face.”

“I didn’t lie,” DeRosa said. “I needed you to act normally.” DeRosa put his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “It was the only way—”

“Don’t touch me!” Ben yelled, pulling away from DeRosa’s hand. “You lied and put all of our lives at risk! Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Ben, I couldn’t get through to you. Rick was always watching.”

“That’s bullshit,” Ben snapped. “You could’ve passed me a note on the subway. You could’ve passed me something at the Jefferson Memorial. At the very least, you should’ve passed me something when Ober died.”

“I’m sorry about that—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Ben yelled, walking past DeRosa. Holding his shoulder, he headed up the hallway.

Ben approached Lisa and Claremont. “Thanks for the save,” Claremont said.

“Fuck you,” Ben said, pushing Claremont aside to get to Lisa, who was collapsed against the wall. He grabbed her bloodied hand and looked at her battered face. “How’re you doing?” he asked.

“I’ve had better days,” she said.

“Did you get pushed through the window?”

“No way,” Lisa said with a pained smile. “This was by choice. Great idea, huh?”

“One of your best,” Ben said.

“Let’s get them both to a hospital,” one of the marshals said. “They’re pretty banged up.”

“Did you really get shot?” Lisa asked, looking at Ben’s shoulder.

“No way,” Ben smiled back. “This was by choice.”

HOLDING A BAG OF ICE TO HIS EYE, NATHAN
waited inside a small room that connected to DeRosa’s office. For two hours, Nathan hadn’t moved, sitting in the same hard chair and leaning on the same small conference table. Throughout the ride to DeRosa’s office, the marshals wouldn’t say a word to him. When Nathan asked questions, they wouldn’t respond. When he threatened them, they weren’t fazed. All they would tell him was that Ben and Lisa were safe.

Finally the door to DeRosa’s office opened. Taking his bag of ice with him, Nathan walked inside. Ben sat in one of two chairs that faced DeRosa. A sling held Ben’s left arm in place. Nathan pulled the bag of ice from his eye and scowled at his roommate. “This’s why I’ve been locked up for two hours?” Nathan asked. “So you could interrogate Prince Charming over here?”

“Take a seat,” DeRosa said, pointing to the chair next to Ben.

“I’d rather stand,” Nathan replied shortly.

“Whatever you want,” DeRosa said.

“How are you doing?” Ben asked.

“How am I doing?” Nathan asked sarcastically. “Let’s see, my eye is a melon, my head is ringing, and no one’s told me a damn thing. Other than that, I’m superb.”

“What was the last thing you saw at the hotel?” DeRosa asked.

“The last thing I saw was a dozen marshals busting into the room. They confiscated all of Rick’s equipment, shouted about tracing Rick’s cellular phone, and then they unlocked me—obviously their lowest priority. Then you come over, introduce yourself, and disappear. A medic checks me out and gives me some ice and some aspirin, and the next thing I know, two of your Secret Service wannabes drive me here and lock me in that little room.”

“I’m sorry I had to leave,” DeRosa explained, scribbling notes as he spoke. “Now what happened before that?”

Before Nathan could respond, the door to DeRosa’s office opened and Claremont walked into the room. Carrying a cup of coffee, he sat in an empty chair near the window. Staring at his former captor, Nathan was enraged. “Who’s he, and what the hell is he doing here?” Nathan asked.

“That’s Michael Burke,” DeRosa said, pointing to Claremont. “He’s a U.S. marshal.”

“You’re a cop?” Nathan asked.

“I’m a marshal,” Burke said.

“You’re a marshal, but you let Rick beat the shit out of us?”

“Sorry about that,” Burke said. “We wanted to wait until Rick bought the stock before we did anything.”

“Then where were you after he bought the stock?” Nathan asked, his voice growing louder.

“Don’t blame me for that,” Burke said. “That was your fault. We were ready to storm in, but Lisa bolted out the door.”

“Oh, and that’s
my
fault?” Nathan laughed. He walked to the empty chair next to Ben and sat down. “How the hell were we supposed to know you guys were out there?”

“Ben and Lisa knew,” Burke said.

“You knew?” Nathan turned to Ben.

“I swear I didn’t know,” Ben insisted. “I thought they gave up on me.”

“Hold on a second,” Nathan said. “I thought I was about to die a few hours ago! Now what the hell is going on?”

“Here’s what—” Ben began.

“I want the full story,” Nathan demanded. “From the beginning.”

“Drop that tone and shut up,” DeRosa ordered. Nathan put his ice back on his eye. Ben then took a deep breath and explained how he’d initially approached DeRosa and how he’d thought he’d been abandoned by the Marshals Office.

“Are you telling me they could’ve grabbed Rick weeks ago?” Nathan asked in disbelief. He looked back at DeRosa. “Why did you wait until now?”

“We wanted to get everyone Rick was involved with,” DeRosa explained. “From his broker to everyone else on his payroll.”

“And we wanted to catch Carl Lungen,” Burke added.

Nathan stared coldly at Burke. He then turned back to Ben. “Did you know he was a marshal?”

“Not at all,” Ben explained. “That’s why I smashed him in the face. I didn’t know he was on our side until he saved Lisa.”

“What about Ober getting fired?” Nathan asked. “Did anyone know—”

“We didn’t know Rick was going to get Ober fired,” DeRosa said.

“And if it makes you feel any better,” Burke added, “I didn’t know Rick was going to kidnap you. He decided that at the last minute when he thought Ben was turning himself in. Remember, we were counting on Ben handing over the decision early yesterday morning.”

“The kidnapping thing really messed us up,” DeRosa said. “We didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t think,” Nathan interrupted. “The moment Rick grabbed us, you should’ve blown the whistle. Instead I got my face kicked in for no reason.”

“There was nothing I could do,” Burke said.

“That’s bullshit,” Nathan said. “You could’ve revealed who you were. That would’ve forced everyone to rush in the room and save us all.”

“I couldn’t do that,” Burke said. “It would’ve jeopardized all of our lives. I didn’t know where the backup was hiding. I just knew they would be there if things got out of control.”

“You don’t call this out of control?” Nathan yelled, pointing to his black eye. “And what about when Rick put a gun in Lisa’s mouth? That wasn’t out of control enough for you?”

Ben put his hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “Nathan, calm down,” he said. “If everyone came charging in at that moment Rick
would’ve
blown Lisa’s head off. As it is, we should consider ourselves lucky nothing else happened.”

Nathan pulled away from Ben and stood up. “What else could possibly happen? This was the worst weekend of my life!” Ben reached over to calm him, but Nathan continued to pull away. Eventually, Nathan was standing in the middle of DeRosa’s office. “When Ober lost his job, they already had Rick in their hands! And
you
didn’t say a word! You could’ve blown the whistle on all of this! You could’ve—”

“I did what I thought was best for everyone,” Ben said. “If I had blown the whistle early, Rick would’ve disappeared. The only way to deal with Rick permanently was to catch him.”

As his fists tightened, Nathan could no longer contain his rage. “YOU SELF-CENTERED SON OF A BITCH! THE ONLY THING YOU DEALT WITH PERMANENTLY WAS OBER! BY KEEPING YOUR MOUTH SHUT, YOU KILLED HIM!” Blindly, Nathan threw his ice pack across the room, sending it flying toward DeRosa’s neatly organized desk. As it landed on the desk, the ice bag sent a stack of papers crashing to the floor.

“I understand you’re upset,” Burke said, “but you have to look at the big picture—”

“Screw the big picture,” Nathan yelled. “My life isn’t there for you guys to play with! You used us! And Ober paid the price for it!”

“That’s enough,” DeRosa interrupted, his voice booming through the office. “Ober acted on his own. And if suicide was his best solution, he had more problems than the ones Ben gave him. As for you, you should be thrilled you’re alive. If you’re not, you can drop a note in the suggestion box on your way out.”

Silent as DeRosa picked up his papers, Nathan remained motionless in the center of the room.

“Nathan, I’m so sorry,” Ben said. “I tried my best to—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Nathan interrupted. Walking over to DeRosa, he added, “I guess you knew about the blackmail letters Rick sent us.”

“All about them,” DeRosa said. “Don’t worry. We’ll let your office know that your participation in this case was invaluable. There’s no way they’ll fire you after I’m done with them.”

“Great. Fine,” Nathan said, walking to the door of DeRosa’s office.

Burke followed Nathan to the door. “You’re not going anywhere,” Burke growled. “We still have questions for you to—”

Nathan opened the door and stormed out.

“Let him go,” DeRosa said. “It’s been a long day.” When the door closed, DeRosa turned to Ben, who looked exhausted. “Well, that’s one battle lost—you ready for Hollis?”