Max edged around to a less populated rim and gripped the wooden railing that circled the ice. He smiled and waved to a little girl, hanging on to her mother’s hand and wobbling across the ice. Maybe her mother would have him arrested before he could even talk to Bessler.
Bessler skimmed around the ice, even doing a few turns and jumps. Then he started making wide circles around the perimeter of the rink, stopping every few laps to watch the rest of the action.
He neared Max and then bent over to adjust his laces. He came to a stop a few feet away from Max.
Max leaned forward and waved again. “How’d you know where we were staying?”
Bessler replied to the ice, his head still bent. “I bugged Dr. Whitman’s brother’s place. I heard him on the phone. Tempest doesn’t know about Cody Whitman. They tracked you here some other way. Do you still have your Tempest phone?”
“Of course not.” Max didn’t want to reveal too much to Bessler just yet, so he didn’t need to know about Arnoff’s computer. “What do you know?”
“I know they’re pumping us full of juice to brainwash us, to create some superagent, but it’s not working on me, at least not completely. I heard Skinner went nuts and shot up the lab but Dr. Whitman escaped. I know she’s with you.”
“She’s not with me anymore.” Max laughed and waved at his imaginary daughter. “You’re doing great, sweetheart.”
“Cut it out, Duvall.” Bessler untied his laces again. “I heard a lot more from Cody Whitman than where you two were staying. He’s trying to find a lab for you. Why?”
Max whistled between his teeth. He had to admit the guy had skills. “How do I know this isn’t a setup?”
“If it were, you’d be dead by now.”
“Or you would. Don’t flatter yourself, kid.” A woman barreled into the side of the rink, almost tripping over Bessler.
Catching her arm, Max said, “Be careful.”
“I don’t think this is my thing.” She laughed and then skated off.
Max leaned back and looked over his shoulder. “Besides, I don’t think Tempest wants to kill me. Snyder already had his chance.”
“Snyder?” Bessler finished tying his skate and brushed ice chips from his snow pants.
“The guy in the bathroom.”
“Why does Dr. Whitman need the lab, Duvall? Can she create more of the juice? A weaker strain like the blue pills? Because that’s one thing I do know. We can’t quit cold turkey or we’ll wind up like Skinner—and I have no intention of winding up like Skinner.”
Bessler rose from his crouch and then his blue eyes widened as he clapped the side of his neck.
Max dropped to the ground and hugged the ice rink’s barrier. He didn’t need to see it—he’d heard it.
Bessler crashed to the ice.
Chapter Sixteen
Adrian Bessler fell to the ice and Ava stifled a scream when Max disappeared behind the ice rink’s barrier. They’d both been hit.
She dropped the cup of hot chocolate she’d been drinking on the ground and rushed toward the ice rink, her heart pounding, her mouth dry.
A few people had stopped next to Bessler, but nobody had panicked yet. Did they think he’d just fallen? Wasn’t there any blood? And why had nobody gone to Max’s aid on the other side of the barrier?
She ran onto the ice, her booted feet slipping beneath her. Five feet away from Bessler, she fell, her hands hitting the cold, solid surface. Sobbing, she crawled toward the fallen agent on her hands and knees.
He looked as though he was sleeping. There was no blood on the ice, no gaping wound in his head.
“Is he your husband? I think he might’ve fallen and hit his head. He’s out.”
Ava gazed past the woman’s blurry face to the place where Max had just been standing. Had nobody on the other side of the wall seen him go down?
As she dragged herself toward Bessler’s inert form, attracting more and more attention, Max’s head popped up on the other side of the barrier.
“What the hell are you doing?”
She nearly collapsed to the ice in relief. “I—I thought...”
“Doesn’t matter what you thought. Stand up and do it quickly. I’m going to yank you over this wall.”