Texas Outlaw

by James Patterson

  Finally, when we have some energy back, Ariana says, “Rory, what the hell are we going to do?”

  We’re sitting at the riverbank where we went swimming, which feels like a hundred years ago.

  “I’ve been thinking about that while we walked,” I say. “You know that greenbelt that runs through McCormack’s property? That little tributary with all the vegetation growing around it?”

  Ariana knows what I’m talking about—the ribbon of oasis outside the fence line that passes the shooting range and the oil derrick.

  “I’m assuming that waterway comes from the open space somewhere, right? Do you think you could find it?”

  Ariana knows right where it is. When she was in high school, Gareth would drive a four-wheeler parallel to it and meet her in the open space.

  “They’ve blocked every dirt road out of here,” I say, “but I bet they won’t expect me to walk right onto their property.”

  “It’s a hell of a hike,” she says. “Maybe ten miles.”

  Once the land begins to flatten out, she says, that means I’ll be on McCormack’s land.

  “And at that point, I’ll be able to get a cell phone signal, right?”

  “Rory,” she says, “what have you got in mind?”

  I tell her my plan.

  When I’m finished, she says, “That sounds like suicide.”

  “What other options do we have?” I ask.

  She can’t think of any.

  Chapter 93

  GARETH McCORMACK CAN’T sleep. He rises from his bed and paces through the ranch house, anxious for dawn to come so he can mobilize the men to hunt down Yates and Ariana. He can’t wait to get his hands on them.

  When he was in high school, he started a trophy box, keeping souvenirs of all the girls he slept with.

  When he was in the army, he started a different trophy box—one that held souvenirs from all the people he killed.

  Ariana avoided making it into his first trophy box. He’s glad he’ll have the chance to put her in the second. And as for Yates, Gareth doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to kill someone so bad.

  He hates that fucking Texas Ranger.

  His father thinks Yates is a worthy adversary, and Gareth can admit the guy is good—for a civilian. But Gareth has no doubt that in any contest—fists, knives, rifles, pistols—he could take the Texas Ranger. There is no scenario in which Rory Yates could best him.

  Gareth steps out onto the front porch. The moon and stars provide some light, but most of the property is hidden in darkness. He can make out the gate and some of the fence line, white in the blackness, but the oil derrick a thousand yards away is completely invisible.

  The land is silent, the air chilly.

  A light comes on in his peripheral vision, and he turns his head to see a dull glow coming from his father’s study. Gareth takes a plug of snuff and stuffs it in his lip. He spits into the grass, then heads back into the house.

  “Can’t sleep?” Gareth says, seeing his father behind his desk. “Me neither.”

  “I was just thinking about your mother,” Carson says, leaning back in his plush chair.

  The only light in the room is a desk lamp. They call the room a study, but it’s bigger than some houses, with a vaulted ceiling and a picture window that a school bus could drive through. The wood-paneled walls are lined with animal mounts—a bear, an elk, a lion taken on an African safari—that Carson killed when he was younger and still interested in hunting.

  “What about Mom?” Gareth asks.

  “Just how glad I am that she’s gone,” he says and smiles widely.

  Carson has a bottle of scotch and a tumbler with two fingers in it. He pulls another glass out of a desk drawer and offers Gareth a drink. By way of answer, Gareth takes the empty glass and spits tobacco juice into it.

  He doesn’t drink, doesn’t use drugs. Shooting is his drug. Especially when a person is in the crosshairs.

  There is no high that compares to killing a human being.

  “What’s that noise?” Carson says, annoyed.

  Gareth doesn’t know what he’s talking about but then realizes it’s a phone buzzing. He checks his own pocket and finds that his phone is the one ringing.

  “Who the hell is calling at this hour?” Carson says.

  Gareth looks at the screen and sees that it’s a Waco number.

  Yates.

  Gareth answers and says, “Did you decide to turn yourself in?”

  The other end of the phone is quiet, and for a moment Gareth thinks there’s no one there. Then Yates speaks.

  “I let you win,” he says.

  “What?”

  “Not with the rifles,” Rory says. “You won that fair and square. Of course, you and I both know that contest was rigged because I hadn’t had time to sight the gun for my eyes.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Yates?”

  “But with the pistols,” Rory says, acting as if he wasn’t interrupted, “I threw the game. I let you win.”

  “Bullshit,” Gareth says, his stomach turning to acid.

  He’s remotely aware of his father staring at him.

  “You’re pretty good,” Rory says. “I’ll give you that. But you’re nowhere in my league. Not with a pistol anyway. Especially not in a real gunfight.”

  Gareth’s heart is racing. He wants to reach through the phone and tear that arrogant asshole’s throat out.

  “You think ’cause you shot a couple of guys in a bank robbery that you know what it’s like to kill?” Gareth says. “I’ve killed more…”

  Gareth stops himself. He doesn’t want to admit to all the murders he’s committed, so many more than the twelve confirmed during his time in the army.

  “You ever stood face-to-face with a man holding a gun?” Rory says. “Ever shot anyone who had any real chance of fighting back?”

  He hates to admit to himself that he hasn’t. His army kills were all long-range sniper shots. Skip Barnes was, too. He also killed Rio Lobo’s former police chief, making way for Harris to take over, but he’d hit him in the head with a rock and drowned the old man in the river. And all their old employees, the ones who were told they would be bought out, to start over somewhere else, he’d slashed their throats while they slept and buried their bodies out among the pump jacks.

  Sure, he’s killed a lot more people than Rory Yates has.

  But not one of them knew what was coming.

  Not one of them had any chance of shooting back.

  “I’m happy to make you the first,” Gareth snarls into his phone.

  “Good,” Rory says, “because I’m calling you out. No beer bottles this time. You and me, face-to-face. Two cowboys with two pistols. Nothing else. An old-fashioned showdown. A duel—to the death.”

  Chapter 94

  “IS YOUR FATHER with you?” Rory asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Put me on speakerphone.”

  Gareth does, setting the phone on top of his father’s desk so both of them can hear.

  “How much faith do you have in your son taking me down?” Rory asks.

  “All the faith in the world,” Carson answers, grinning.

  “Okay, then here are my conditions.”

  Rory says that he’ll show up to the ranch two hours after sunrise. He and Gareth will have a duel. Winner takes all. If Gareth kills Rory, then it’s over, the McCormacks have won. But if Rory wins, Carson has to give his word that he’ll surrender. Turn his operation over.

  “This used to happen on ancient battlefields,” Rory says. “Instead of two armies massacring each other, they sent in their best warriors—knights, samurais, whatever—to decide the outcome.”

  “The difference,” Carson says, “is that you don’t have an army.”

  “Not true,” Rory says. “I’ve got a bigger army than yours. I’ve got the whole Texas Ranger Division. And behind them I’ve got the DEA and the FBI and Homeland Security. They’re not here yet, but they’ll be coming if you�
��re not careful. You might be able to stop me before I can bring them all in, but then again, maybe you can’t. Do you want to take that risk? Or would you rather gamble on your son to end this once and for all?”

  Carson is quiet for a moment. Gareth mouths the words, Do it.

  “What about Ariana?” Carson says.

  Rory changes the tone of his voice. “You didn’t find her body?” he asks.

  Carson and Gareth look at each other but say nothing.

  “She took a bullet while we were running away,” Rory says. “I stayed with her until she stopped breathing, but then I had to leave her behind. Your men were all over the area. I thought they would find her.”

  “Who got her?” Gareth asks. “Me or one of my guys?”

  “I don’t know,” Rory says. “But I blame you. That’s why I’m doing this. I want you to pay. I just need your daddy to give me his word that he won’t gun me down afterward.”

  “You have my word,” Carson says. “A duel. Winner takes all.”

  “I’ll see you two hours after sunrise,” Rory says and hangs up.

  Gareth and his father stand in his office, grinning like hyenas.

  Gareth says, “I’m going to kill that son of a—”

  “Yes,” Carson says, interrupting him, “you are, but not in any stupid duel.”

  Gareth glares at his father.

  “I want you on that tower,” Carson says, pointing at the darkness on the other side of the window. “When he shows up, I want you to put a bullet through his brain. You got it?”

  “I can take this guy,” Gareth says, his voice furious. “I’m not afraid of him.”

  “This isn’t the fucking Wild West, Son,” Carson snaps. “I’m not risking my whole operation on some dick-measuring contest between you and that Texas Ranger.”

  Gareth opens his mouth to argue, but Carson cuts him off. “You’ll still get to kill him, Gareth. Just my way. Not his. He doesn’t get to make the rules.”

  Gareth seethes.

  Carson says that at first light he wants Gareth to walk out to the derrick and get into position. At the same time, he’ll send out some teams into the open space to see if Yates was telling the truth about Ariana Delgado.

  “I’m not sure that son of a bitch wasn’t bluffing,” Carson says. “This might be some trick. If he doesn’t show and we can’t find Delgado, it’s time to pack all the merchandise and get ready for a raid. We’ll haul out what we can, burn what we can’t.”

  Gareth says that he doesn’t believe Rory was lying. “He’s a fugitive who aided and abetted a known felon,” Gareth says. “He knows this is his only option. If he could call in the Rangers, he would have done it already.”

  Carson argues that what Gareth says would be true if the other Ranger was still alive. But if one Ranger has gone rogue and the other has gone missing, more Rangers will come. Which means the McCormacks need to resolve this today.

  And the only way they can is by bringing the bodies of Yates and Delgado in on a platter.

  “I still think I could take him in a shoot-out,” Gareth says.

  “Look at it this way,” Carson tells his son. “Put the first bullet in his kneecap. And then put one in his balls. Torture him a little. Have fun with it. If you face off with pistols, you’ll have to kill him too quick. I’d like to see the bastard begging for mercy, wouldn’t you?”

  As much as Gareth wants to prove his mettle against the Texas Ranger in a one-on-one duel, he likes even more the sound of making him suffer.

  Chapter 95

  WHEN I HANG up the phone, I check my battery and see that it’s almost dead.

  I take a deep breath and look out at the stars, which feel incredibly close this high off the ground. It feels like I’m floating in outer space.

  I’m not.

  I’m sitting on top of the oil derrick overlooking McCormack’s property.

  I spent most of the night walking through the green growth alongside the river with only the moon and the sound of the water to guide me. When I arrived at the derrick, sweaty and tired, I climbed to the top as quietly as I could. Through the blackness, I can see a few lights at what I assume is the ranch house. But otherwise, the whole landscape is dark.

  When I proposed my plan to Ariana, I felt certain of two things.

  First, I could bait Gareth into agreeing to the duel.

  Second, his father would break his word. He would send Gareth out to the derrick to kill me from up here. Which is why, as soon as the sun starts to rise, I’m going to lie down behind the metal railing and wait for Gareth.

  When he gets to the top, I’ll arrest him and handcuff him to the derrick.

  And then I’ll have his rifle. I’ll be outnumbered on his property, but the roles will be reversed from the situation I was in yesterday. I’ll have the gun that can reach across a thousand yards. They won’t be able to get to me, especially in the open expanse of the ranch. There’s even less cover here than what we had yesterday.

  I won’t be as good a shot as Gareth would be, but I’ll be good enough to hold them off until help arrives.

  Which brings me to the second part of the plan.

  Ariana.

  She has to find a way to sneak past McCormack’s men guarding the exit of the open space. Then she’s going to hightail it to town, find Tom Aaron, and tell him everything she knows.

  If he can get word to at least the Rangers in Waco, tell them what happened to Kyle, and back that up with something put out over the AP wire, we’ll hopefully have a handful of law enforcement agencies converging on Rio Lobo by noon.

  As long as I’m still alive, up here with a sniper rifle and Gareth as my hostage, I should be able to disrupt McCormack’s plans long enough for help to arrive. If I’m dead, maybe McCormack will be able to clear out his operation. Take the drugs off his property. Clean up all—or at least most—of the evidence.

  The sky is starting to turn from black to blue, the stars disappearing. In the distance, I can make out the shape of the ranch house and the barns and corrals.

  I have one more play before I lie down and wait for Gareth. I pull out my phone. My battery is in the red. I waited to send this message until after I got off the phone with Gareth and Carson. I wanted to make sure I had at least enough juice for that call.

  I type a message to my former lieutenant, Ted Creasy.

  I’m not sure what my reputation is within the Rangers right now, if Kyle really has soiled my name and made it so they won’t take a message from me seriously. Or, worse, if they think I’m an outlaw now, aiding a fugitive.

  But Creasy will believe me.

  And he’ll do everything he can to send in the cavalry.

  I write,

  Multimillion-dollar drug ring operating out of Rio Lobo. Kyle Hendricks has been murdered. They’ve murdered at least three others. Primary suspects are Carson and Gareth McCormack. Rio Lobo police chief is compromised. Send reinforcements to the ranch of Carson McCormack.

  I think for a moment and then add,

  If I don’t make it, tell my parents and brothers that I love them.

  And Willow, too.

  As I send the message, the screen goes black. The battery is dead. I don’t know if the message went through or not.

  Chapter 96

  ARIANA SNEAKS THROUGH a copse of trees to get a closer look at the roadblock McCormack’s men have set at the exit of the open space. The men are about two hundred yards away. The landscape is still gray in the morning light, but she can see well enough.

  One of McCormack’s black pickups is parked there along with an ATV. Two men sit in camp chairs next to a fire. One of the men is sleeping, but the other is alert.

  Ariana drove Tom Aaron’s Land Cruiser to a nearby ridge and walked the rest of the way. She has a plan to siphon some gas from the tank, put it in an empty water jug, and then set a fire somewhere else in the open space. When McCormack’s men go to investigate, she’ll race the Land Cruiser out of the open space as fast
as she can.

  It will take a lot of work because she needs to set the diversion far away from the Cruiser but close enough that she’ll be able to get to it and escape without alerting the men.

  She realizes that another, easier solution is available. She has the .223 M4 with her. She could probably kill both men before they knew what hit them.

  She dismisses the idea. That isn’t the way a police officer conducts herself. They might deserve it. They might do it to her if the roles were reversed. But she can’t bring herself to shoot them in cold blood.

  She is about to sneak back to the Land Cruiser when she sees one of the men get a call on his walkie-talkie. They’re close to the edge of the highway and must be able to get a radio signal. Ariana checks her phone and sees that in this canyon she has no bars.

  “Damn it,” she mutters, cursing her luck.

  Who could she call anyway? She is a wanted fugitive.

  But her luck takes a turn for the better.

  “Come on,” the one who answered the walkie-talkie says to the other, waking him up. “McCormack called. We’ve got a job to do.”

  The mercenary sits up, alert in an instant.

  “We’re supposed to go search for the Delgado woman. McCormack says she might be dead out there.”

  The men grab guns and supplies and mount the ATV. They fly off, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.

  Ariana gets ready to hurry back to the Land Cruiser, then has a thought. Did they leave the keys in the truck?

  She refused to kill the men in cold blood, but she doesn’t have any problem with stealing their truck. It would be a lot faster. When she runs over to their camp, she finds that her luck continues: the key is in the ignition.

  Ariana fires up the truck and kicks up dust when she stomps on the gas. She races in the opposite direction from where the men went. When she hits blacktop, she floors the accelerator. It doesn’t take long to arrive in town. The sun is just breaking the surface of the horizon. The town is quiet, the streets empty.