In Death 15 - Purity in Death

jumpsuit.
    "Come on in, Dallas." His mouth moved into a terrible grin as he levered his weapon under Feeney's jaw again. "I'm going to show you just what I need to resolve this situation to my satisfaction. Keep that 'link open."
    He paused, hissed out a breath, then rammed the heel of his free hand against his eye. "Keep that visual so I can see you all the way to the door. Anybody tries to pass you a weapon, this old man is over. Keep your hands up, keep them up where I can see them."
    He drilled the heel of his hand against his eye again, the other rolling wildly as he tried to focus on the screen. "My head!"
    "I've got the medication to help you." Eve spoke calmly, slowly as she walked to Feeney's office door. On either side of it, just out of visual, were two crisis cops in full riot gear armed with lasers. "I need you to release the locks, sir."
    "Anybody tries to rush that door, I take him out."
    "I'm coming in alone. I'm not armed. I'm not carrying anything but the medication. You're in control here. Everyone knows you're in control."
    "About damn time !" He released the locks, then shoved Feeney's head back, digging in with the business end of his weapon.
    And now, Eve thought, if she was wrong, everybody died. She eased the door open, then lifting her hands high, nudged it the rest of the way with the toe of her boot.
    "I'm alone, Captain Halloway," she said, stepped in, shut the door at her back.
    She risked one fast glance at Feeney. She read the anger, the frustration on his face. And saw the bruises gathering under hi s jaw where Halloway had rammed his weapon time after time.
    "Put the bag down on the desk." Halloway licked his dry, cracked lips as she obeyed.
    "Take a step back, hands behind your head."
    "Yes, sir."
    "Why are there two syringes?"
    "Sir, the MT said that you might require a second dosage for full relief."
    "Come around the desk slow."
    She could hear him keening under his breath, like an animal beyond pain.
    He couldn't be thirty yet, she thought. He couldn't be thirty and a few hours before Feeney had dressed him down for fighting virtual aliens.
    Blood trickled slowly out of his nose. The left sleeve of his jumpsuit was red from wiping at it. She could smell his sweat, his blood, his fury pumping.
    "How many times you have to bang this old bastard to make lieutenant?"
    "Sir, Captain Feeney and I have not been intimate."
    "Lying bitch." He swung out, backhanding her faster, harder than she'd anticipated. Off balance, she fell back into a chair. "How many times?"
    "As many as it took. I lost count."
    His head bobbed rapidly. "That's the way it works. Somebody's always screwing somebody so they can screw somebody else over."
    "Everyone knows you've achieved your rank and position through your own merits."
    "You got that. You fucking-A got that." He pawed a blue blocker out of the bag. "How do I know this isn't poison? Here." He shoved it into Feeney's mouth. "Swallow it! Swallow it or I do her." He swung the weapon toward Eve.
    They were close, but not close enough for her to see if the pill had a thin yellow stripe. She waited, counting off the seconds as Feeney swallowed to see if she'd already lost the gamble.
    But his eyes stayed clear. "Halloway." As did his voice. "Everybody here wants to resolve this. You need to tell us what you want so that everybody walks out."
    "Shut up." He sliced his weapon down Feeney's cheek with casual violence. Then pawed another pill out of the bag, popped it in his mouth, chewed it like candy.
    "Maybe those syringes are poison. Get one out, get one out." He chewed a second pill. "We'll have a little test."
    "Yes, sir." She pretended to fumble a bit as she reached in the bag. "I'm sorry. I'm a little nervous." She took out the dummy. "Do you want me to administer this, sir, or would you prefer to do it yourself?"
    "You go ahead and administer it. No," he said when she started to rise. "Sit right there. Pump it into yourself. You live through that, maybe you live a little longer."
    She kept her eyes on his as she turned the syringe toward her arm, settled it, depressed the plunger.
    "I followed your orders, sir. I'm sorry you're in pain. It's difficult to think clearly when in pain. I hope, after this medication alleviates your physical distress, we'll be able to resolve this situation to your satisfaction."
    "You want to make captain, you're going to have to start banging me. I'm in charge now. Get up, get up! Give me the damn syringe. These pills are