Chapter 10 - THE PRICE OF MERCYFor one terrible second, Viktor believed Gabriel Morel was dead.
The detective lay motionless in the mud.
Rain washed blood across the ground.
Smoke rolled from the burning garage.
Bennett's SUV disappeared down the driveway with Milan inside.
Everything Viktor had spent the last few hours trying to protect seemed to be slipping away.
He crawled toward Gabriel.
“Gabriel!”
No response.
Viktor reached him and pressed two fingers against his neck.
A pulse.
Weak.
But there.
He exhaled shakily.
“Stay with me.”
Gabriel's eyes fluttered.
“Mom?”
Viktor looked toward the orchard.
“I'll find her.”
Gabriel gripped his sleeve.
“Don't let Bennett—”
His voice faded.
Viktor pressed his hand against the new wound.
The bullet had struck Gabriel's side.
He needed a hospital.
Immediately.
Viktor looked toward the farmhouse.
The flames were spreading.
He had to make a decision.
Chase Bennett and Milan.
Or save Gabriel.
For three years, Viktor had imagined watching this man suffer.
Now he was kneeling in the rain, trying desperately to keep him alive.
He looked at Gabriel.
“You don't get to die on me.”
The detective managed a faint smile.
“That's an order?”
“Yes.”
Viktor pulled Gabriel's arm over his shoulder.
With enormous effort, he dragged him toward the orchard.
Halfway there, Jeanne appeared between the trees.
She screamed when she saw her son.
“Gabriel!”
Viktor lowered him carefully.
Jeanne knelt beside him.
Her hands shook.
“Please,” she whispered. “Please, not my boy.”
Viktor looked away.
He knew that prayer.
He had whispered it beside his mother's hospital bed years before her death.
He had whispered it again after the police told him she was gone.
He refused to hear another family lose someone because of Bennett.
“We need help,” he said.
Jeanne looked toward the road.
“The nearest hospital is twenty miles away.”
Viktor remembered Gabriel's earlier instructions.
The emergency call box.
Six miles east.
He looked toward the trees.
“I know where we can call.”
Jeanne shook her head.
“You can't leave him.”
“I have to.”
She gripped his hand.
“Promise you'll come back.”
Viktor looked at Gabriel.
Then at Jeanne.
“I promise.”
He ran.
The forest blurred around him.
Branches struck his face.
Mud swallowed his shoes.
Every breath burned.
He had escaped prison that morning.
Now he was running toward the police.
The irony wasn't lost on him.
But freedom had begun to mean something different.
It wasn't simply being outside a cell.
It was being able to choose what kind of man he wanted to become.
After nearly an hour, Viktor reached the old ranger station.
The building was abandoned.
But the emergency call box remained mounted beside the road.
He lifted the receiver.
A voice answered.
“Emergency services. What's your location?”
Viktor struggled to breathe.
“My name is Viktor Sokolov.”
A pause.
“Sir, are you reporting an emergency?”
“Yes.”
He swallowed.
“Detective Gabriel Morel has been shot. His mother's farmhouse is burning. Armed men are involved.”
The operator's tone changed.
“Are you in immediate danger?”
Viktor looked toward the empty road.
“I don't know.”
“Stay on the line.”
He hesitated.
Then added, “I'm also an escaped prisoner.”
Silence.
Then the operator spoke carefully.
“Thank you for telling me. Help is being dispatched. Please remain where you are if it's safe.”
Viktor closed his eyes.
For the first time in three years, he had willingly given his name to the authorities.
And he had done it to save the man who arrested him.
Minutes later, sirens sounded in the distance.
Viktor stepped into the road with his hands raised.
Two patrol cars approached.
Officers climbed out with weapons drawn.
“Get on the ground!”
Viktor obeyed.
Cold asphalt pressed against his cheek.
Handcuffs closed around his wrists.
The sound was painfully familiar.
But this time, he didn't fight.
An officer knelt beside him.
“Where's Detective Morel?”
Viktor gave directions.
Then he looked up.
“Please hurry.”
The officer studied him.
Something in Viktor's voice seemed to change his expression.
He stood and called for an ambulance.
Viktor watched the emergency vehicles disappear toward the farmhouse.
Then another car arrived.
A black sedan.
A man stepped out.
Tall.
Well dressed.
Silver hair.
Viktor recognized him from television.
Richard Vale.
The owner of Meridian Health Research.
Vale approached slowly.
The officers seemed surprised to see him.
One asked, “Sir, what are you doing here?”
Vale smiled.
“I heard there was an emergency involving an old friend.”
He crouched beside Viktor.
His voice was gentle.
Almost fatherly.
“You look exhausted.”
Viktor stared at him.
Vale continued.
“Your mother was a wonderful woman.”
Viktor felt cold.
“Stay away from me.”
Vale's smile didn't change.
“I'm afraid we have unfinished business.”
He leaned closer.
May you like
And whispered words only Viktor could hear.
“Your brother is alive. But if you tell the police what you know, he won't be for long.”
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