The Edge

He put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll sedate you first, of course. Then it’ll all be over in about an hour.”

He went back over to the control panel and worked away. A minute later Alex lifted her head slightly and looked around. Her gaze held on where the conveyor belt led — a large metal chamber. “They’ll know. They’ll find out the truth, Fred.”

Bing looked over at her. “They’ll only find out what I want them to, which is my uncle was obsessed with you. He kidnapped you and took you somewhere. And no one will ever find out where. Then he came here and tried to kill me because I had tried to stop him. But I shot him instead. I’ll be a hero.” He next looked at the chamber into which he would be sending Alex on the conveyor belt. “And you can’t get DNA or anything else from ashes. It will be like you never existed.”

“You’re sick!” she cried out.

“No, I’m just very careful.”

Alex closed her eyes and started mumbling loudly, rocking from side to side, banging into the sides of the cardboard box.

Bing glanced over and saw this. “Alex, please stop.”

He hurried over to a table, snatched a syringe off it, and uncapped the needle. “Just a little pinch, then you won’t feel anything else.” But when he tried to administer it she was gyrating so fiercely he couldn’t do it.

“Stop it, stop it, Alex.” He set the syringe down and gripped her shoulders. “What are you doing?” he barked. “Are you having another seizure?”

Her eyes popped open and her right hand broke free of the cut ropes as she sat up and plunged the knife Devine had given her into Bing’s shoulder. Then with a long scream she twisted it in the gaping wound and jerked it upward.

Bing cried out in pain, looked at the blade quivering in his flesh, and struck Alex so hard she toppled out of the box and fell to the floor, where she lay stunned.

“Omigod, omigod,” panted Bing. “Why did you do that? It hurts. Oh God, it hurts.”

Alex slowly tried to stand but couldn’t manage it. She fell back onto her knees.

Bing staggered around the conveyor belt and kicked her in the stomach. She cried out, and then her expression turned dark and violent. She jumped up, lunged at him, and pulled the knife free from his shoulder. Blood started to shoot out of the wound, spilling over the both of them.

Bing let out a shriek and punched her. She fell against the conveyor belt and slumped to the floor.

“It’s... an artery. You... you cut my artery.”

“I hope to hell I did,” she gasped, wincing in pain.

Bing grabbed a heavy wrench lying on a table. He raised it to strike her.

The shot struck him cleanly in the head and the round stayed there after destroying an irreparable amount of Fred Bing’s soft brain tissue.

The dead man stood wobbling over Alex, but only for a moment. He fell against the conveyor belt, bounced off it, and fell to the floor.

A battered and bloody Alex looked over at the doorway, where Devine was just now lowering his gun.

Chapter 82

Dak was in a shoulder harness. Alex’s physical wounds had mostly healed but her mental injuries still needed attention.

They had driven Devine to the airport in Bangor for his flight back to DC.

Devine had held meetings with both Harper and Fuss, and the federal agents Mann and Saxon, going through multiple briefings. He had done the same via Zoom with Emerson Campbell. Everyone had been complimentary of his work. They considered the investigation a success on every level, and everyone was relieved that Jenny’s phone and laptop had ended up in the ocean. He’d even gotten Benjamin Bing’s confession recorded on his iPhone.

Campbell had saluted him on the computer screen and said, “Thank you, Devine. Job well done. And it meant a lot to me personally.”

“Yes sir.”

“Clare has been briefed. She sent her thanks and gratitude to you. And I... I told Curt. I know he didn’t understand but it made me feel better.”

“Maybe he understood more than you think, sir.”

However, Devine didn’t agree with their assessment of a successful mission, because of the long line of dead people associated with it. If he had lost this many soldiers during an op, it would have been an abject failure in his mind, despite their achieving the mission goals.

The town had been informed, by both formal and gossip channels, about most of what had happened. To say that the citizens of Putnam were shocked to their core did not even come close to describing it accurately.

Dak shook Devine’s hand with his good one. “Thanks, man. You did right by the Silkwells, I can tell you that. And you saved Alex’s life.”

“You’re welcome. And the elver business?” asked Devine, while glancing at Alex.

“I’ve applied for a proper permit but we may not need it.”

“Really, why not?”