I broke down the rifle as quickly as possible and checked it for live rounds. I walked over to the truck and tossed it in the floorboard. After surveying the aftermath, I locked the doors on the truck. I didn’t need a child coming up on an unlocked vehicle and playing with a ten-thousand-dollar sniper setup.
Inhaling a deep breath, I pulled on the black shirt and took off for the farm on foot.
48
I STAYED ON THE OPPOSITE side of the highway in the shadows, creeping along the bank until I was about twenty yards from the front gate and could see the administration building from across the road. The hostages were on the front porch, both duct taped to chairs. Lights were on inside behind them. I watched the windows. A head peeked through at the corner of the window, then darted out of sight.
They were nervous. I’d been wrong with my initial thoughts, figuring most of them would hole up in the back of the farm. He’d sent almost everyone down to the admin building. What was McCurdy up to? Shadows danced around in the background, but they steered clear of the windows.
I snickered to myself. Good. They were scared, afraid to come outside and play.
They’d watched one of their friend’s head explode out of nowhere. They probably thought they were going to just hang out with the hostages on the porch and make a deal while using Shirley and Morgan as cover. They’d changed their tune and beelined it inside. I was sure McCurdy was miles away. He was a pussy. The guys inside would be the same country boys that’d tried to jump me at Sean’s house, which let me know they had no experience with firearms or military training. Bear probably wouldn’t be there, the more I thought about it. He and his driver would be someplace else. McCurdy wouldn’t risk losing them. He wouldn’t want his main guys taken out with a sniper round, and he needed people to drive the bomb for him. No way was he going to do it.
I made my way across the camber of the highway, my head on a swivel, eyes sweeping back and forth to assess the situation. I stayed crouched and ran over the median and down to the gate, my eyes locked on the windows.
I walked up on my previous work; one body with half a head, the other riddled with gunshots to the chest. I looked down at them. “Shoulda had your heads in the game.”
The gate was wide open which was odd and stupid.
I snagged the H&K from the dead guy next to me, checking the magazine in the process. It was almost full. I jammed it back in, put the stock to my shoulder, then stepped out around the side and took aim. There were two windows directly behind Shirley and Morgan. I shot out both of them, and glass exploded and rained down. They kicked and screamed.
Frantic shouts came from inside the windows, and the shadows told me they were bustling around. Someone grunted. Another one hollered, “What the hell?”
Then, I heard something I didn’t want to hear.
49
A LARGE, BLUE DIESEL TRUCK rumbled up from the back of the farm. I saw the Classic Cola logo in the distance as it flashed in front of a light pole. The truck pulled up next to the admin building and hissed to a halt. I’d thought these guys were stupid. They weren’t.
I traced a horizontal line from the admin building to the truck through the after-market scope of the H&K, swinging the weapon back and forth. I saw a muzzle flash from a window behind Shirley and heard the explosion from the barrel. I spun back around with my back to one of the brick pillars.
The bullets sliced overhead, way off target. It was to be expected. These guys weren’t military or police. Just country boys with experience shooting deer in the woods. More fire ensued. Some of it actually came close. One round hit the pillar by the other dead body about twenty feet away. Some of the brick turned to dust and crumbled down on the pavement.
“Savage!” The voice came from the truck.
I glanced around the corner and saw a set of pearly white teeth grinning. It was McCurdy. He’d stuck around. I had to give him credit, maybe he had bigger balls than I’d thought. I couldn’t fire on the truck. He knew it, and I knew it. I should’ve never left that message in the guy’s chest. If I sent a round through the truck, we’d all be dead.
McCurdy had confidence in whoever built the bomb to be riding inside it.
When I turned back, one of his goons had slid out the front door and had his gun planted to Shirley’s head. He crouched down behind her. It wasn’t good. None of it was.
The full, bright moon gleamed off the green blades of grass. The headlights of the truck shot out and lit up the trees across Route 66 behind me. He could have Shirley killed and I still couldn’t fire at him. He must’ve felt really damn proud at that moment.
Enjoy it while it lasts, dick.
I gritted my teeth and waited, keeping my gaze trained on Shirley, but logging everything that happened in my peripheral vision. Our eyes locked. Her foot tapped the ground. I couldn’t tell if she was struggling or what she was doing. Her eyes bugged out and then rolled back down to her feet. I watched. Four times she tapped her foot, then did it again, over and over.
“So, here’s how it’s going down!” McCurdy screamed from the truck. “Two guys are gonna load Charles Morgan into the truck! He deserves what’s coming to him! You’re not gonna do anything! You fire your weapon, Detective Shirley dies! You’re not gonna fire at us, we know that! You fire at anything else, she dies!”
“We’ll see! Roll the dice!”
I tried to figure out what Shirley was trying to communicate—four stomps, four guys. That’s what she was telling me. One on her, two to come out and move Morgan to the truck; that meant one guy would still be inside. I didn’t know where Bear was. He was the only one I was worried about.
Two men came out of the house that weren’t Bear. That left one inside, probably Wyatt. McCurdy was in the passenger seat, so that meant someone else was driving the truck—Bear’s driver. Bear wouldn’t have stayed in the house, so he was in the truck with them—in the back area where a truck driver would sleep.
The two men stumbled around, their eyes wide, heads scanning back and forth, and made their way over to Morgan. He didn’t look happy about going with them. He kicked and screamed against his restraints. They picked him up and disappeared with him around the back of the semi.
One of the guys beat his fist twice on the back of the truck. I stared up at the front as McCurdy leaned out the window to make sure they had Morgan, and I caught a visual of the driver. It was Bear’s sidekick.
“See you later, Savage!” The truck lurched forward.
The other two guys ran out from behind it and sprinted up to Shirley’s rear on the porch, covering her with their guns.
They crouched down behind her the best they could. The other guy kept his gun pressed to her head. She tapped her foot four times again. Three on the porch, one still inside. The Classic Cola truck rambled down the side entrance.
I had a decision to make.
50
I SWITCHED THE H&K TO single-shot bursts and took off running down through the driveway and veered way out into the grass. It served as a sort of courtyard before the small parking lot. I ran in a zig zag pattern, not too worried about the three guys hitting me, or the fourth from the window. Running straight at someone gives them the easiest target, though, and I wasn’t going to make it easy on them. Even a blind dog gets lucky sometimes. The gravel complained against the tires of the truck as it pulled off the service entrance and onto the highway. McCurdy waved like he was on top of the world.
I flashed back across the courtyard at an angle, about twenty yards from the house. The guy with the gun to Shirley’s temple didn’t have a chance. I whipped the H&K up, took aim on the run, and put a round right between his eyes. It blew out the back of his skull and painted the white siding on the building crimson. He slumped into a pile on top of Shirley and she kicked and screamed. He rolled off onto his back in front of her.
The other guys took aim. They had very poor stances like they’d never fired a weapon before. I pinned the second guy to the wall before he squeezed the trigger. The ro
und ripped through his heart and exploded his chest. The last guy got off a quick burst that whizzed high and left by a good twenty feet. I was still running to my right.
I stopped and aimed, completely calm, then squeezed the trigger and put the round right through his eye socket. The top right half of his head caved into a trench.
Three down. One to go.
I scrambled back left, across the front of the building.
I kept my eyes peeled on the window for Wyatt. He would have to show himself if he wanted to shoot at me. The glass was all blown out of the windows. I juked hard left when I saw a hand and a barrel in the side of the window.
Interesting.
He was going to fire blindly and hope for a hit. That would’ve been fine if Shirley wasn’t sitting on the front porch. There was a good chance his careless act would fire a round right into her back.
I stopped and lined up for the shot. Wyatt’s hand came into view, along with his weapon. I took aim and blew at least three fingers off. The gun fell and clattered on the floor inside. He clutched his arm and shrieked. His body appeared in the window for a split-second before he realized what he’d done. By that time, it was all over for him. I put a second round right through his ear hole. His silhouette dropped and disappeared with a thunk.
I tossed the H&K sideways into the yard and ran up to Shirley. I pulled out the knife and sawed her hands and legs free, then yanked the tape off her mouth. She started to scream from the pain and I slammed my lips onto hers, swallowing her shouts. She punched at my chest a few times, adrenaline and fear surging through her body. I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed tight as she trembled in my embrace.
After a few long seconds, I released her and put a hand on each shoulder, our eyes locking.
“Not now. Later.”
Her eyes hardened, and she nodded back at me.
“Good.”
I glanced back and saw the red tail lights of the truck disappearing down the highway, up over the hill where I’d been perched with the sniper rifle. They had a head start, and the truck was half a mile away.
51
I WANTED TO HOLD SHIRLEY tight and calm her down—take her and run. We could be out of the state in two hours, a thousand miles away in a day, just her and me. But we couldn’t. There were still men on the property. I was pretty sure of that. We needed to get the hell out of there.
“We have to go.”
She nuzzled into my shoulder. “Charles.”
“We’ll get him. I promise.”
I couldn’t stop wondering why she was so close to him. He was a rich oil tycoon and she was a detective. They came from two different worlds. It was no time to get a family history lesson, so I clutched her hand in mine and pulled her inside. I tried to keep her shielded from the dead bodies, but they didn’t seem to affect her. It dawned on me that being a detective she’d have seen her fair share of corpses.
I rummaged through the room, searching in a frenzy.
Shirley followed me around, her eyes darting back and forth. “What are we looking for?”
“Keys.”
I found them in the receptionist’s desk as I said the word. The lady kept track of guys coming and going in company vehicles, so it made sense.
“They ambushed us.” Shirley hustled behind me on the way to the door.
“What?”
“While you were with Peabody. Bear and his friend. They snuck up on the Escalade while we waited, tied us up, and one of them drove us here. Bear followed later in the big truck.”
“Where’s the Escalade? I didn’t see it out front.”
“No idea what they did with it.”
“I shouldn’t have left you there. It was a mistake.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
I turned around and kissed her one more time, never wanting her out of my sight again. “I should’ve known.”
“It’s okay to make mistakes, Savage.”
I shook my head. “Not today it isn’t.”
I looked both ways as I stuck my head out the front door. Calm. Crickets. “Click the lock button on those keys.”
She pressed them two times, and a horn blasted once around the side of the building.
“He was here.”
“Who?”
“McCurdy. When you called him. He was here with us. And when you shot the guy out front. It scared him. I could see it in his eyes. He tried to play it off, but he’s afraid of you. He took off through the back of the building with Bear and the driver as soon as it happened.”
“Good.” I stared back at her. “Did you hear the phone conversation?”
She turned and wouldn’t show me her face.
“Sorry.”
She sighed. “You said what needed to be said.”
I didn’t respond.
I hadn’t wanted to say the things I did. I knew Shirley knew that, but it had still hurt her, I could tell.
“We have to go.” I grabbed her by the forearm. “I’ll make that up to you. Promise.”
As soon as I’d said the words, we heard something I hadn’t expected.
52
WITHOUT THINKING, I SHOVED SHIRLEY back inside the room and stepped onto the porch.
What the hell?
The big truck with the lift kit ambled along the service entrance, roughly fifty yards to my left. Bear sat in the driver’s seat, his jaundiced eyes locked on mine the entire time. He didn’t speed, didn’t try to make a fast getaway, didn’t even try to conceal his presence. It sent a shiver up my spine.
He wasn’t in the back of the Classic Cola truck. What the hell is going on?
Bear didn’t look away from me until he pulled onto the highway, and then the taillights disappeared into the night along with the roar of the engine.
“Is it clear?” Shirley asked from the floor.
“Oh, damn. Sorry.” I stepped inside and reached down to help her, but she smacked my hand away.
“I’m fine. God, you’re a savage beast sometimes. What was that all about?”
“Bear left in the truck. He wasn’t with McCurdy and the driver. It’s weird.”
“What do you want to do?”
We would be a good twenty minutes behind the Classic Cola truck, and five behind Bear. I retraced the map in my head. They had to be on a schedule. They’d have it all arranged to get there at a certain time when they could get the bomb through security.
I didn’t answer her question and walked toward the car.
“It’s really annoying when you do that.” Her words hit me in the back, but I was already moving. She caught up to me and ran to the passenger side.
Once we were in the car, I racked the seat back and started it up. “Sorry, I’m not used to this.”
“Used to what?”
“Having a partner, communicating.”
Shirley didn’t respond, just nodded as we bumped across the parking lot and pulled onto Route 66.
“How do you know Morgan?”
Shirley glanced over at me, surprised at the question. We cruised along Route 66 back toward I-44 to take us into the city. The car was a used Ford Focus, probably the same one the Boston guy had sat inside outside Sean’s place, just like Shirley’s ride. Odd coincidence. It seemed to be maintained well as a company car, used for various errands for office staff. Meetings. Something. Didn’t care. I decided to keep it instead of taking Peabody’s truck.
The Focus was less likely to break down and it was smaller. I didn’t anticipate needing a vehicle for off-road travel or navigating difficult terrain. I didn’t want to stop for the Barrett. I had to find the sniper perch anyway, so I’d just sneak up on the guy and take him out. Chances are he would set up and leave, then wouldn’t show up until the last minute anyway. It was a logical decision.
Shirley sighed, finally willing herself to answer the question. “My mom was his maid.”
I nodded like go on.
“I think they were together at one time, way before my sister disappe
ared. Like an affair. My parents had grown apart when I was young. You know the type of situation—they held it all together for the kids. They argued a lot. But her death really took a toll on them; it actually brought them closer together.”
“What happened to your parents?”
“They both passed away. Car accident. A year after my sister.”
I hadn’t even noticed they’d stopped showing up in her photos too. I’d been focused on the sister. It became clearer. She seemed like the type who’d call her parents every day, even in adulthood. I hadn’t heard her talk to them once.
“I’m sorry.”
We both sat quiet for a mile or two, before I broke the silence. “So, you’re alone. That’s why you’re so passionate about your work.”
“It’s all I have, really.”
“You have Morgan.”
She shrugged. “I suppose. He hasn’t been the same. I grew up playing at his house with my sister. We’d go to work with Mom. He didn’t have a wife or kids. Worked too much. He kind of adopted us when he was around. He’d take us up in his plane at R.L Jones Airport. It’s a little place in Jenks, a suburb south of Tulsa. He’s a pilot. That’s his big hobby when he’s not working.”
I nodded. A lot of rich guys had pilot licenses. You always heard about doctors and millionaires dying in small plane crashes. It seemed to be the en vogue thing to do, learn how to fly after you made a million bucks. Maybe there was a tax incentive. I’d probably never know. I didn’t need or want that much money, too many problems came with it.
We passed the Hard Rock Casino and the golf course next to it. I had to drive the speed limit. We couldn’t risk being pulled over.
Shirley fidgeted with the door handle. “So, what’s the plan?”
“I’m thinking about it. He’ll get the bomb in there. It’s too clean and he’s been planning this for years. He has to have a way.”
“Why not just call up the place where they’re having this thing? Or the secret service or whoever. Tell them there’s a bomb threat.”
Savage Beast (Max Savage Book 1) Page 19
