The gunshot Walker heard was from the shotgun, and its boom echoed through the computer lab. He closed his eyes.
Webster smiled.
Jasper’s fingers didn’t skip a beat.
Then, more gunshots sounded.
The pop-pop-pop of 9-millimeter pistols, at least two of them, shooting rapidly, then the louder boom of the shotgun, then once again, then another volley of 9-millimeter shots—and then silence.
Two things happened at once.
Webster’s finger tightened on the trigger of his Beretta.
And Walker dropped and dove.
The pistol belched out three rapid-fire shots and destroyed computer terminals as Walker landed behind a partition. Two more shots blasted holes either side of where he lay.
Walker heard the man run away, toward the stairwell, only turning to yell, “Jasper—cover him!”
•
Monica and Paul looked at Kent, who was dead, a close-quarters shotgun blast having turned his chest into a bloody pulp as soon as he’d opened the secondary door. Then Monica looked at the gun in her hand, and the form of the dying man with the shotgun.
Bang.
Paul put another round into the guy’s body, and he went limp.
“Wait,” Monica said, catching Paul’s arm. She pointed down the hallway, and aimed her gun.
•
“Jasper!” Walker called out. “Jasper—I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you can stop this. If you ever thought this was just an exercise, you can still get out of it. Paul’s here. Your sister’s here. Yesterday I was with your father. They all care about you.”
No answer from Jasper. No shooting either. He could hear that Jasper was no longer typing.
“Jasper—be realistic about this,” Walker said, speaking up toward the ceiling, loud enough to be heard across the room. “We’re here. And they know—the government knows, that you’re here. They’ll have cops and Feds and the military all forming rings around this place. You have to think about how you want this to end. It’s not too late to come out of this. But if you take it further . . .”
Nothing. Not a sound.
“If you turn off the energy grid, think of all the hospitals that will be without power. For how long? How long will their emergency generators last? What about the people at home who rely on power to survive on medical equipment? What about all the hell-raisers who are going to be combing the dark streets tonight? Or America’s enemies, deciding to make what they can of the situation. Think about it, Jasper. Think of it all, and of your involvement.” Walker paused, then added, “No one has to know. I can get these two guys. And we can get to General Christie. You help us out here, no one has to know of your true involvement. Jasper . . .”
Silence. Nothing. Nothing but the gush of the air conditioning and the hum of a few hundred computers.
Walker got to one knee and looked up, over the partition, toward where Jasper had been seated.
Empty.