“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.”

Chapter 19

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.”