CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

Finn"s boots crunched over the detritus that littered the threshold of Crowmyre Factory, an edifice of eroded brick and corroded metal that clawed at the darkening sky like a relic of the industrial age. Its shadowy maw gaped open, the massive doors hanging off rusted hinges, whispering the tales of long-abandoned labor and toil.

Squinting through the dimming light, Finn"s instincts prickled as he stepped into the cavernous space, the last rays of sunset filtering through the shattered panes of the high windows. The air was thick with the scent of mold and decay, a testament to centuries of neglect. His breath materialized in cold puffs, the only proof of life in this desolate place.

"FINN!" The shout ricocheted off the crumbling walls, jolting through him with the ferocity of a gunshot. Vilne"s voice was unmistakable, a guttural echo that seemed to emerge from every shadow, every hidden corner of the forsaken factory. Finn"s hand instinctively went to his belt, feeling for the reassuring weight of the knives he"d secured before leaving his cottage.

"Show yourself, Vilne!" Finn called out, his voice steady despite the pulse hammering in his ears. He advanced cautiously, eyes roving over the darkness that clung to the machinery like cobwebs. Each step took him deeper into the bowels of the building, where history and terror intertwined.

"Come on then, Finn! You"re getting colder," taunted Vilne, the twisted amusement evident in his tone. Finn could almost visualize the smirk that would be playing on the man"s lips—the same smirk that had haunted him since their last deadly dance in America.

"Let"s not play games," Finn retorted, keeping his tone even as he moved toward the source of the sound. The faintest outline of footprints in the dust led him onward, evidence of Vilne"s passage. He needed to end this, for Amelia"s sake—Inspector Amelia Winters, his partner, whose intellect matched his own and who now faced an unknown fate at the hands of a madman.

"Games?" came Vilne"s scoff. "This is no game, detective. This is evolution."

Each word tightened the knot in Finn"s chest, knowing that behind Vilne"s delusion lay a mind sharp enough to execute whatever twisted plan he had concocted. As he wove between rusting looms and broken conveyor belts, Finn steeled himself for what lay ahead.

"Amelia needs me," he thought, a mantra against the fear that threatened to take hold. She was more than a colleague; she was the one person who understood the demons that drove him, who had seen past the facade of the consultant detective to the man beneath.

"FINN!" Vilne"s voice boomed out again, closer now, filled with the dark promise of violence. Finn quickened his pace, his senses on high alert.

"Keep talking," Finn murmured, using the sound of Vilne"s voice to guide him through the labyrinth of derelict industry. His fingers curled around the hilt of a knife, ready for the confrontation that was inevitable.

"Always so predictable," Vilne sneered, the words bouncing off the iron and stone.

Finn knew he was right. Vilne always predicted his moves. Finn felt for the three blades wedged down the back of his belt. It was the only protection he had.

The darkness of the Crowmyre Factory seemed to swallow Finn as he moved, a shadow amongst shadows. His breath came in controlled bursts, steeling his nerves against the chill that seeped into his bones. Every echo in the cavernous space was a warning; every drip of water from the decaying rafters was a countdown.

He followed the sound of his name, the syllables stretched and distorted by the ancient brick. The weight of the knives against his thigh was a comfort — a reminder that he was not defenseless against whatever madness awaited him.

"Amelia!" he called out, his voice low, hoping for a response that didn"t come.

Then, there she was — Amelia, bound to a chair, her determined eyes meeting his with an unspoken plea. Next to her stood Vilne, a grotesque giant silhouetted against the feeble light, his features twisted into a deranged semblance of joy. Finn"s heart clenched at the sight; his partner, his confidant, in the hands of a madman.

"Vilne," Finn spat the name like a curse, feeling the cold air wrap around his tongue.

The large man turned, his smile widening, displaying a row of teeth that gleamed unnaturally in the dimness. "Special Agent," Vilne greeted, a mock formality in his tone. "Or should I say, consulting detective?"

Finn"s gaze flickered to the side, noting the soft hum of a generator. It powered a single computer, its screen casting an eerie glow that danced across the walls. The machine looked out of place amidst the decay, a piece of modernity intruding upon the time-ravaged factory.

"Quite the setup you have here," Finn remarked, buying time as his eyes searched for any advantage.

"Efficiency is key," Vilne said, but Finn heard the undercurrent of pride in his voice.

"Let her go, Vilne," Finn demanded, his hand inching toward the hilt of one knife, ready to act on the slightest provocation.

"Ah, but then we"d miss all the fun," Vilne chuckled darkly, his gaze never leaving Finn"s.

Finn took a measured step forward, keeping his movements deliberate. "You don"t want to do this."

"Contrary to what you might think, detective," Vilne said, stepping closer to the humming computer, "I very much want to do this."

"Your quarrel is with me," Finn countered, locking eyes with Amelia for a brief second, trying to convey a silent message of hope.

"Everything in due time," Vilne replied, his hand hovering over the keyboard. "Every great change begins with a single action."

Finn"s mind raced. Whatever plan Vilne had involving that computer, it couldn"t be good. He had to find a way to end this before—

"Focus on me, Finn," Vilne commanded, drawing Finn"s attention back to him. "Your little sidekick can wait."

"What interest do you have in computer viruses?" Finn asked. "And all of Chronos's Tempus Machine nonsense."

"It's not nonsense," Vilne snapped. "I initially conceived of this as a game to taunt you, but over time I have realized that it can, and should be, much bigger than that."

"Vilne," Finn growled. "What is it that you really want?"

With a mad glint in his eye, Vilne pressed the cold steel of a large knife against Amelia"s neck. "To make you watch," he hissed.

"Watch what?" Finn demanded, his voice steady despite the panic clawing at his insides.

"Her die," Vilne said simply. "But not before I share my vision."

Finn"s gaze snapped to the computer by Vilne"s side, the soft blue glow casting sinister shadows across his face. "What madness are you planning?"

"Madness?" Vilne chuckled, a disturbing sound devoid of humor. "No, Detective. It"s ambition. A virus, partly my creation, partly Chronos's, partly a few others along the way, ready to send this modern world back to the stone age. Imagine, Finn, all technology rendered useless in an instant."

"You"re insane, but you"re not that far gone," Finn spat out, barely keeping himself in check. "I don"t doubt there is a virus, but what"s it really for?

"Insanity is the mother of innovation," Vilne retorted, his eyes alight with fervor. "I will be remembered as the harbinger of a new era. And you, Finn... you"ll fail. Not just in saving her," he nodded towards Amelia with a cruel smile, "but in saving your precious modern world, with your influencers and your prisons…"

"I don"t believe you... There"s more to this..." Finn whispered, every muscle coiled tight, ready to spring.

"Is there?," Vilne said, removing the knife momentarily from Amelia's throat. "Sometimes I think I do things just for the pleasure."

Amelia"s eyes remained wide. Finn could see the defiance in them. She wanted Finn to do what he needed to do, regardless of what happened to her. That he knew.

But he couldn't bring himself to see her harmed.

Vilne moved in the darkness like a looming threat, a deranged grin splitting his face as he gestured grandly to the cameras mounted overhead. "Welcome to the show, Detective. The whole world is watching," he proclaimed, his voice tinged with grotesque enthusiasm.

Finn"s eyes darted around, taking in the live feed, the cables snaking across the floor to the generator that pulsed with life. "You"re streaming this?" he asked, masking his horror with an icy veneer of calm. "Tell me you didn"t need help to set up a simple stream? I thought you were a genius. Is that why you were talking with Emily?"

Vilne looked angry for a moment.

"Of course, I didn"t need help. I had some correspondence with Henry and Emily, mostly to find whispers of the Tempus Machine so that I could keep Chris Harlow under my thrall. He believed me, the fool."

"You didn"t have to kill those people," Finn said.

"You"re right. I did it to give you something to do. You should be happy about that. Some of the victims assisted me, not knowing what I was working on. Others were more intimately involved, but it doesn"t matter. They were all butchered for your entertainment. How love to watch you flounder, Finn! Now... Get this, when this stream goes dark, so does the age of technology," Vilne declared triumphantly, his gaze locked onto Finn"s with manic intensity. "Oh, I'm sure other computers will be built, perhaps some saved, but not before I've caused utter carnage around the world. Hospital computers, airlines, train terminals, military installations, oh, it's going to be marvelous!"

"I don"t buy this," Finn said. "Technology that can delete the internet? Sounds like pie in the sky, but a virus... I believe there is one, but not for the reasons you"ve said. You lied to Chris Harlow didn"t you?"

Vilne looked on, annoyance showing on his face.

"You used him like you used the others," Finn said. "You really are the master manipulator. Even this is a show. If there wasn"t a virus, you"d seem inept. You wouldn"t have that. Hell, you tracked me down to the UK just to have revenge because I caught you once. No, your pride wouldn"t accept the virus being fake, not when you are being watched by God knows how many people."

Vilne smirked to himself.

"So, given what I know about your psychology," Finn continued, "there has to be a virus. But I bet it does something else. What does it do, Max? Tell me, or do you want to win without me ever knowing how clever you"ve been."

"Well done," Vilne said, calmly. "This virus will infect law enforcement servers across the US. FBI, Homeland, pathetic little Sheriff departments, everything. It will delete every single file, every single record of any crimes and criminals. There will be bedlam, and I will be able to sneak off into the blue. I just wanted to cause a little panic across the way. The entire criminal justice system will collapse with no records of who did what. Mistakes will be expunged, with the added bonus that with no criminal record, I"ll be able to use a fake passport and ID to make my way to anywhere in the world I please, and then continue my... Passions..."

Finn laughed. "My God, Vilne. Are you really so pathetic that you need to wipe record of the fact I caught you fair and square."

"There was nothing fair about it!" Vilne readied his hand with the knife. "Now you know the truth. It"s been a game, but one where I set the rules. I win. As always. And the world will know it."

"Quite the spectacle you"ve put together," Finn replied evenly, circling cautiously. He eyed Amelia, bound and resolute despite her predicament, then fixed his stare back on Vilne. "But you see, Vilne, behind all this genius... there"s one thing you"ve overlooked."

"And what would that be?" Vilne sneered, confidence unshaken as he toyed with the knife over Amelia's head.

"Your pride," Finn stated plainly, his voice as sharp as the blades concealed on his person. "It"s always been your downfall."

A flicker of irritation crossed Vilne"s face before he masked it with a laugh, but Finn saw it—the chink in his armor. With every word, he was gauging, calculating, ready to pounce at the slightest opening. Because this was not just a game of chess; it was a dance with death—and Finn was poised to make his move.

"Ah, but you see, I have no weaknesses, Finn," Vilne snarled, the knife in his hand glinting ominously. "You and your like are too lacking in vision to know this."

"Is that so?" Finn"s eyes narrowed. "It was your pride that got you here, wasn"t it? Chasing me across the ocean to make a point because I caught you back in the States."

"Respect is what I am due, Finn!" Vilne spat, his eyes wild and fervent. "You were lucky back then. That fire at the hotel—nothing more than a fortunate distraction that let you walk away with Nancy Miller and me, unconscious and in handcuffs."

"Was it luck, or was it your ego overestimating your abilities?" Finn countered with a steady tone, despite the rapid drumming of his pulse. He needed to keep Vilne talking, buy time, look for an opening.

"Luck saved you then," Vilne sneered. "But luck won"t save you tonight."

"I suppose I couldn't persuade you to walk away?" Finn"s voice reverberated through the empty halls, meeting only shadows.

"You and your jokes," Max said. "I will say, I might miss this back and forth. But all good things must come to an end." He looked at the computer screen. "It's almost uploaded."

"Almost isn't enough," Finn answered.

"You don't even have a gun," Vilne said with venom. "You couldn't best me in a fight a year ago, what makes you think it will be any different tonight?"

"I didn't say it would be different," Finn replied, honing in on his one moment. "But if we're going to dance. I'd rather get to it over all this talking."

"You should be honored to speak with someone with my intellect!" Vilne shouted, raising his hand and knife above Amelia, as if to strike.

"And you should be honored to speak to someone with my aim!" Finn yelled.

With swift precision, he drew two knives from his belt and flung them. One spiraled end over end, burying itself deep into Vilne"s shoulder with a sickening thud. Vilne roared, pain and surprise mingling in his cry, his hulking frame jerking with the impact.

"Amelia!" The name tore from Finn"s throat as Vilne, fueled by fury, brandished his knife at her. Adrenaline surged, narrowing Finn"s world to the blade edging towards Amelia"s pale neck.

Time slowed as Finn lunged forward, tackling the looming specter of death to the side. The knife missed its mark by mere inches, slicing through the air where Amelia"s head had been seconds before. Finn"s hand found the bonds that tethered her to the chair, the ropes biting into her wrists. With deft movements forged in countless encounters with death"s dance, he sliced through the restraints with his remaining knife, freeing her.

"Go," he urged, locking eyes with Amelia, her own gaze alight with a fierce resolve.

"Not without you," she breathed out, steel in her voice matching the determination in Finn"s grip on his remaining knife.

Vilne loomed as large as a stone gargoyle, pulling the knife from his shoulder. Finn put himself between Vilne and Amelia.

Max Vilne stood, blood oozing from his shoulder, grinning.

"Too late, Finn!" Vilne"s voice boomed, reverberating off the cracked walls. "The virus is already in the system, and you will be the man who failed everyone!"

"Is it?" Finn countered, his tone laced with a dangerous calm as he glanced at the computer.

The screen was dark, the power light extinguished. A glint of metal protruded from its side—the second knife embedded deep within its circuitry. Finn had aimed twice, and hit twice. "You might want to get someone to look at that, fella. Seems broken to me."

"No!" Vilne shouted.

Amelia stepped beside him, her eyes scanning for any advantage. "Game over, Vilne."

"The only thing that's over is you!" Vilne"s voice crescendoed into a scream, and he lunged, his large knife cutting through the air with lethal intent.

Finn reacted instinctively, parrying the blade with his own. Metal clashed against metal, sparks fleeting in the dim light. Amelia moved with precision, aiming to flank their adversary.

Finn gave it his all. He swung, but Vilne dodger, smashing his fist against Finn"s side. Finn felt the breath escape from him. Vilne was relentless, catching a punch from Amelia and then slapping her across the face with disdain in his eyes. Vilne surged forward kicking at Finn"s knee.

Pain winced up his body. Finn now was no longer on the attack, he had to defend, himself and the woman he loved..

"Upstairs!" Finn shouted to Amelia, nodding toward the dilapidated metal stairs leading to the overhead gangway.

With a mutual understanding born of countless life-or-death moments, they broke away, sprinting up the creaking steps. Finn could feel the rusted metal groan underfoot, threatening to give way at any moment.

Vilne followed, his boots pounding on the stairs like the drumbeat of an ancient war. They reached the gangway, the gridded floor offering a treacherous path as they continued their deadly dance.

"Careful," Finn warned Amelia, his gaze flicking between her and Vilne. "One wrong step..."

"I know," she replied tersely, her focus never wavering from the threat before them.

The gangway swayed slightly, a precarious arena for what could be the final confrontation. Finn could see the crazed determination in Vilne"s eyes, the gleam of a man who had nothing left to lose.

"Come on then!" Finn taunted, baiting Vilne, hoping to exploit an opening. "Show us what you"ve got!"

And with a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the Crowmyre Factory, Vilne charged, his knife held high, ready to bring down destruction upon them both.

Finn dodged, and Amelia struck out, but so too did Vilne, kicking her in the side. She fell to the metal railing, slamming against its cold surface, her body careening into a rusted guardrail with a sickening thud. "Amelia!" Finn cried out, but there was no time to aid her.

"Ugh!" she gasped, pain etching her voice, pushing him away with a forceful gesture. Her eyes, usually so full of determination, now flickered with the harsh reality of her injury.

Finn turned back to Vilne. The giant of a man loomed closer, malice seeping from every pore. Finn could feel the years weighing upon him like lead, his senses dulled, his reflexes a fraction too slow. He had relied on wits and old-school cunning in all his cases, but against Vilne"s brute strength and unhinged speed, he felt a daunting disadvantage.

"Getting old, Finn?" Vilne mocked, his voice echoing through the abandoned factory. "Can"t quite keep up anymore?"

Finn dodged a swipe, the knife"s blade glinting perilously close. He parried with one of his own, the familiar grip reassuring against his palm. But Vilne was relentless. Another strike, faster than the last, sent Finn"s knife clattering away across the gridded floor.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, the cold air filling his lungs as he tried to steady himself.

Vilne lunged again, and this time Finn wasn"t quick enough. A heavy blow to his chest sent him sprawling backward, his hands grasping at nothingness as he hit the ground hard. Pain shot through him, his vision blurring at the edges.

"Come on, detective," sneered Vilne, grabbing Finn by the collar and dragging him towards the edge of the gangway. "Let"s see the view from up here."

Dangling over open air, Finn"s feet kicked futilely, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm. Below, the shadows of ancient machinery loomed, ready to embrace him in their silent graveyard.

"Look at you," Vilne taunted, his breath hot on Finn"s face. "No backup. No tricks. Just a washed-up agent playing hero."

"You really are boring," Finn retorted, even as his fingers scrabbled for a hold on the corroded metal.

Vilne"s laugh was devoid of humor, a sound that chilled Finn to the core. "Weakness, Finn. It"ll be your end. Only now, at the end, do you really how alone you really are. How alone you have always been!"

Finn"s every breath formed misty clouds in the chill air as his feet dragged against the precarious gangway. Vilne"s fingers dug into his collar, the threat of a long fall looming behind him. Yet amid desperation, a defiant spark ignited within.

"Vilne," Finn grated out, "you think you"ve won because I"m alone. But your real weakness... you"ll never understand what it is to have someone watch your back."

At that moment, Amelia emerged like vengeance from the shadows, her presence a sudden burst of hope. With a fierce cry, she delivered a roundhouse kick to Vilne"s side. The man stumbled, his grip loosening, giving Finn the chance he needed. He broke free, rolling away to safety.

They stood side by side, facing their foe, who recovered with a snarl. The battle resumed, the clanging of their footsteps echoing through the forsaken factory as they circled Vilne.

The killer swung, and Amelia dodged, grit and determination etched onto her face.

"Enough!" Amelia taunted, catching the man"s wrist and twisting it, making Vilne grimace momentarily from the pain, but he then grabbed Amelia viciously by the throat. She gasped for air.

But Amelia"s efforts had given Finn enough time to move in.

Summoning strength from deep within, he saw his opening and took it, his fist rocketing upwards in an uppercut that connected with the underside of Vilne"s chin. The force of the blow was seismic, freeing Amelia and sending Vilne staggering backward. His foot slipped, his arms windmilling as he tried to catch himself, but there was nothing but air.

With a final look of disbelief etched on his face, Vilne plummeted off the gangway, disappearing into the darkness below with a sound that would haunt the survivors.

"Is it over?" Amelia breathed, leaning heavily against Finn for support.

Finn"s breath came in ragged gasps as he slumped against the cold, gritty wall of the Crowmyre Factory. The adrenaline that had fueled his muscles was now a dwindling fire, leaving only ash and exhaustion in its wake. He felt the weight of every bruise and cut, the legacy of the night"s grim ballet.

"Easy," Amelia said softly, her presence suddenly beside him. She lowered herself to the ground, her hands gently cradling his head, easing it onto her lap. Her touch was soothing more than she could ever know.

"I guess we've gone global," Finn muttered, his voice betraying the fatigue that threatened to claim him. He pointed up at the cameras Vilne had set up.

"Rest for a moment," she replied, her fingers brushing back a lock of hair matted with sweat from his forehead. "We earned it."

The silence between them was laden with words unsaid, each heartbeat a tick on the metronome of their shared experience. The factory loomed around them, an echo chamber of their confrontation with death, a testament to their victory over darkness.

"Amelia..." Finn began, the urgency in his voice cutting through the quiet.

"I know," she whispered before he could continue. "Me too."

The sirens wailed in the distance, a discordant chorus heralding the approach of law and order, of reality rushing back to fill the void left by chaos. But in that fleeting sanctuary, their world narrowed to the space they occupied, to the truths they had danced around.

"Can we start living now?" Finn said, his eyes searching hers in the dim light, seeking affirmation, seeking solace.

"Try and stop me," Amelia offered, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Her gaze held his, fierce and unwavering.

Outside, the crescendo of sirens grew louder, an insistent reminder of the roles they played, of the duty that awaited them beyond these walls. But within the crumbling confines of the Crowmyre Factory, time seemed to slow, allowing them just a moment longer, a moment where nothing else mattered but the truth laid bare between them.

"Then let"s start there," Finn said, finding a strength he didn"t know he had left. "I love you, Amelia Winters."

"And I love you, Finn," she replied, her voice steady even as the world outside beckoned them back to reality. "But I am going back to that Pendergast's store to buy all sorts of crazy antiques shenanigans.

Amelia laughed. "As long as it isn't a time machine."