“There’s no way of getting him out of here. If you kill me, there are several other Inquisitus agents behind me,” Josiah told him firmly. “Be sensible, Neil. It’s over.”
“No! Standstill.”
Gesturing with his gun, Neil grabbed Alex and pulled him backwards towards the shattered edge of the building. Then he glanced down at the dark water below.
“Don’t be a fool, man. You can’t jump,” Josiah shouted, lurching forward.
Neil pressed his gun against Alex’s temple, stopping Josiah in his tracks. His arm was pressed so tightly over Alex’s windpipe that he looked about to pass out. His arms were still tied behind his back and he was helpless, totally at Neil’s mercy.
“Stop!” Josiah put his gun on the floor. “Look, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want you to free Alex. Let’s talk about this, Neil.”
“There’s nothing left to say.” Neil looked bemused, as if he was surprised that it had turned out this way. But then his expression hardened. He glanced over the side of the building again. “If I can’t have him, nobody can,” he said. He took a step backwards, and then another, and now he and Alex were right next to the shattered window. The wind whistled around them, rustling through Neil’s hair.
“Let me go,” Alex muttered weakly, and Josiah wasn’t sure if he was talking to him or Neil.
Josiah smiled at Alex. “Trust me,” he said, and then he lunged forward, picked up his gun and fired off one shot, straight at Neil’s head.
The air cracked and there was a long, hideous pause. Neil began falling backwards, taking Alex with him. Josiah lurched forward, storming across the short distance that separated them. He saw Alex, with every last inch of his strength, ram his elbow into Neil’s ribs, and Neil finally let go of him as he fell out of the window, arms thrashing. Alex tried to fight the momentum, flailing at the edge, but he couldn’t right himself and went over, too.
Josiah reached the window just as he fell, threw out his hand and felt it latch on to the collar of Alex’s shirt. He stood there for a moment, bracing himself against the edge, fearing he’d go over as well, and then a strange calm came over him.
“Come on, soldier. It doesn’t end like this.” He wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or if he was hearing Peter again. It didn’t matter. Somehow, from somewhere, he found the strength to reel Alex back in, dragging him over the jagged edge and landing him gasping on the floor, like a fish out of water. Glancing over the side, he saw Neil had hit the water, taking the Quarterlands Splash. He wouldn’t survive that, even if his bullet hadn’t already killed him.
Exhausted, he crouched down beside Alex.
“Hey, you.” He gently touched Alex’s face. He was soaking wet and freezing cold, shivering and in shock.
“You should have let me fall.” He sounded bone-weary and defeated.
“Never.”
He hoisted Alex up, ignoring the shooting pain in his shoulder, and carried him towards the stairwell. Alex closed his eyes, resting his head against Josiah’s blood-drenched shoulder, and passed out.
Chapter Twenty-Two
NOVEMBER 2089
Alex
Alex waited anxiously, but nothing happened for the next couple of days. There were no gifts, but no reprisals, either. Maybe Tyler considered the event with Bax a draw.
Andrew arrived a few days later, bearing a small suitcase and a sheepish expression.
“This outfit is… well, let’s just say I’m not sure you’ll like it.” He grimaced.
“I wear what my houder requires of me to get the job done. I’m happy to wear anything he chooses for me,” Alex said firmly. “I hope I’ve never given you any impression to the contrary.”
“Well, no, but this isn’t an outfit I’d have chosen for you. Once again, I have no idea who you’ll be entertaining, but judging by these clothes, I’d say it was someone with very specific tastes.”
He opened the case to reveal an outfit Alex remembered only too well. He could hardly forget it. The tight black leather shorts, the mesh shirt, the posing pouch, the diamante high heels, and the nipple decorations… all were exactly as he remembered them. Last time he’d worn this outfit, Tyler had taken him to visit his father’s factory. Maybe he wanted to repeat that humiliation with this new, improved Alex to see if he stillreacted in the same way. He almost hoped he would. He ached for a chance to see his father again, regardless of what he was wearing.
“It’s a little full-on.” Andrew gave a pained smile.
“You must wax me before I wear it,” Alex told him, remembering last time. “I need to be completely smooth to show it off to best effect. I also need a little time to practise walking in these high heels.”
Andrew seemed impressed by his pragmatism. “Of course. You have all afternoon. You don’t have to be ready until this evening.”
The fact it was an evening engagement ruled out another trip to Lytton AV. As disappointing as it was that he wouldn’t be seeing his father, at least he wouldn’t be putting his mask under the extreme stress that such a meeting would entail.
