Seven Wonders Read Online Free PDF

I'm sorry," Sam began, "but this was a watertight operation. Our intel was right on the money, the Cowl was right there, and we had him. Dammit, almost had him." Sam's eyes joined Joe's on the tarmac. She gave up. "I'm sorry, sir, Joe was just helping a friend. I take full responsibility."
      "Really?" To say the chief's tone was unsympathetic was one hell of an understatement. "You know how much this jazz all costs?" He waved his arms around, not really looking, but his point was clear. "The SuperCrime department's budget isn't unlimited. I might just have to start taking some deductions from your pay check, officer. Now, before you get out of my sight for the rest of this miserable day, tell me what happened. Why do I have a damn school bus full of terrorized civilians and not a single suspect in powercuffs?" The chief was already reaching for another cigarette. Joe folded his arms, sat back on the hood, and left it all to Sam.
      She took a short, shallow breath, clearing the events in her mind before assembling them into some kind of order.
      "Sir. 10.30am, two black SUVs pulled up and twelve combatants we assume are in the Cowl's employ entered the bank. Detective Milano and his teams were positioned in the area. I was embedded in the branch as a customer."
      The chief snorted at her use of the term "embedded".
      "With the raid in progress, Detective Milano established the police cordon as though it were any other armed robbery call-out. As expected, they required information from the branch manager, Mr Ballard…"
      Gillespie held up a hand, and Sam stopped short, quickly, lips pursed in the formation of her next words. The chief made a show of dragging on his cigarette. This time he was less careful where he blew the smoke. Sam's eyes narrowed as the irritant cloud wafted around her face.
      "What you didn't expect, detective, is that they'd start killing hostages almost immediately." He shook his head. "You, you of all people, should have known better. The Cowl is an evil, insane little man, and his hired help are usually the lowest form of sadist. Sure, they're trained, they're resourced, they've got the latest and the greatest, but they're lowlife, Detective Millar. You know this. So what the hell were you doing?"
      In the bright sunshine, Sam's face was a flat gray. The chief was right. Joe knew it. Sam knew it. She'd known three months ago that people were going to die, but part of her shut it out. She wanted to take the Cowl down herself, and damn the consequences.
      No, that wasn't true. Sam knew what would happen but was actually quite relieved that the bloodbath hadn't been even worse. But whenever it came to the problem of the Cowl, some cognitive center in her brain started to skip unpleasant but necessary details. She had known people would die, but she went ahead anyway.
      She felt sick. The chief was right. But more than that, she had no right, no right at all, to serve the city making judgment calls like this one.
      Sam reached into her seconds-store suit jacket and took out a small black rectangle of leather. Sewn into the stiff material was the badge of the San Ventura Police Department. On the reverse, a laminated photo ID card. Sam offered it to her boss.
      Gillespie looked at the badge, shaking his head. "What do you think this is, detective? The Wire ? You don't get out of it that easily. Stop making meaningless gestures because you feel bad, and tell me what happened."
      Sam retracted the badge, glancing sideways, not at her partner but to see if any uniforms had been watching. She felt her face grow hot in embarrassment, but nobody was paying the trio any attention. She quickly pocketed the ID and cleared her throat.
      "The Cowl entered the bank by unknown means, through our cordon. Probably some kind of teleportation. He killed the first hostage remotely − psychokinesis we assume. He then made threats against Mr Ballard, and ordered one of his men to shoot