A Man Beyond The Law
Page 10
He would have to do it without Jacobs, though. He thought again of his silent partner in crime. It must have been difficult for Jacobs, Waters reasoned. Pretending to be a part of the team that included Edgar and Silvestri, who were obsessed with tracking down the escaped and crazed Leo Waters.
When in actuality, Jacobs hadn’t been trying to find Waters at all. He’d actually been working to prevent the others from finding him. He’d been acting all along, pretending to be frustrated with each disaster as it unfolded, while actively supporting the debacles.
All because of sweet Jessica Halbert, Waters remembered.
Jacobs, a young, arrogant officer had been soundly rejected by the beautiful young woman and had temporarily blacked out with rage.
Waters, his drinking buddy, had seen an opportunity. He, himself, was already on his way to becoming a full-fledged killer of women. So when he got his hands dirty with Jacobs, he knew it would work out to his benefit. Together, they’d abducted Halbert and taken her out into the woods and had their fun. Truth be told, he, Waters, had had a lot more fun. Jacobs had been a newbie, and mostly watched.
Waters had been advanced enough to know that he’d just implicated his buddy, who was in a higher position and on a much faster path to advancement. He knew it would come in handy one day.
And it sure did.
Rather quickly, at that.
He thought back to that day in Syria.
The bad guy who was the target of the mission had been caught and the extraction had happened quickly and smoothly. The rest of them were then tasked with finding and gathering any additional intelligence.
Waters remembered how when he burst into a bedroom in the house he was searching, he came face-to-face with the most stunning Arab girl he’d ever seen in his life.
She was that glorious pre-pubescent age.
Perfect skin.
The beginning of a woman’s curves.
Unspoiled.
He’d locked the door, slapped a piece of tape across her mouth and raped her. All the time, the family had been pounding on the door, trying to get in and see what the bad American was doing to their daughter.
He was on top of the girl, thrusting himself into her lifeless body with his hands around her throat, when Zenz had crashed through the door.
The rest of the family had spilled through, too. The mother collapsed, screaming, the father and two sons attacked Waters, punching and hitting him, pinning his arms before he could get to his weapons.
More men streamed into the room and he saw out of the corner of his eye as Zenz disappeared around the doorway and out of harm’s way.
His fellow soldier had abandoned him.
All because he was getting laid while on the job.
Eventually, the family and insane villagers had dragged Waters down to the courtyard where a fire had been started. It seemed like the whole tiny community appeared with knives and clubs, all intent on beating him to death. They began to literally tear him apart.
And then the bombs had fallen and just like that, he was free.
Punishment served.
He stole the truck, drove all the way back into Syria, where his partner in crime, Jacobs, arranged for his rescue and medical care using a secret CIA plane and personnel.
It took him nearly a year to recover from the vicious wounds and savage beating.
Once he was healthy and able, he began to kill again.
Waters smiled at the memories as he waited outside Pauling’s building. According to Jacobs’ file, the woman had an intense security system, which meant he needed to take them out on the street.
Preferably, Tallon would go first, and then he could force the woman up to her apartment, where he would satisfy himself and then cut her into ribbons.
He looked down at his own wounds and saw the amount of blood he was losing.
Waters laughed again.
He didn’t have much time.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
A light rain had begun to fall as Pauling maneuvered the Range Rover up 4th Street. Traffic hadn’t been bad at this time of night, and they’d made good time.
They pulled up to the building and the valet came out. He was carrying a small umbrella and wore a black jacket. A ring of car keys dangled from his belt loop as he approached the passenger side door.
Pauling gathered her purse and iPad from the seat between herself and Tallon, while he reached back into the vehicle and grabbed his backpack and duffel bag. He was looking forward to getting to the bottom of this mess and being able to reunite with Pauling in the way he most enjoyed.
A smile formed on his face as he began to turn back. He was going to say something to Pauling when the image of the parking valet snagged in his mind.
It was the man’s shoes.
Time slowed to a crawl as the image flashed through Tallon’s mind. He saw the shoes and they weren’t really shoes. They were beige hiking boots, totally at odds with the black jacket, and reminded him of military footwear.
His motion came to an abrupt stop and he reversed his energy, throwing himself backward into the rear of the vehicle.
Gunfire erupted and glass shattered all around Tallon. He felt something tear into his chest and legs.
Waters.
Tallon dove deeper into the rear of the SUV. He’d been unable to bring his guns on the plane from Los Angeles, so he was unarmed.
Tallon also instinctively knew that he was the primary target, and that Waters would want Pauling for last. It was why he’d attacked them on the passenger side and chosen to disguise himself as the valet. Because he wanted to get to Tallon first.
Tallon belly crawled into the back seat and dove for the opposite rear door, directly behind the driver. He managed to unlock it and spill out of the Range Rover onto the wet pavement.
Behind him, he heard more gunfire, followed by the sound of glass shattering and bullets smashing into metal.
Tallon knew he’d been shot, but he didn’t know where.
And there was no time to check his wounds.
Waters was coming for him.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Pauling had just stepped out of the vehicle when the first series of shots punched through the Rover.
She knew without hesitation that Waters had pretended to be the valet so he could get close and open fire. Pauling also recognized the gun.
It was an automatic weapon.
So she was outgunned.
She also knew Waters had targeted Tallon first. Maybe because Tallon was the more formidable opponent, or because he wanted Pauling for more than just murder.
She withdrew her gun from its shoulder holster in one swift, smooth motion, dropping her purse and iPad in the process. Using the hood of the vehicle as cover, she took aim at Waters.
But he wasn’t there.
Behind her, she heard Tallon hit the ground.
Pauling’s mind processed the options for Waters: come around the front of the vehicle, around the back, or over the top.
In less than a full second, she quickly worked through the probabilities, immediately eliminating the first.
He was not coming around the front.
The rear approach would be expected and also provided him the most cover.
Because it was the obvious choice, she guessed he would avoid it.
And when Pauling felt the Range Rover’s body rock imperceptibly, she knew that something of significant weight had caused it to shift.
And, she knew she was right.
Pauling immediately raised her firearm and pointed it at the roof of the Rover, just above the rear passenger door.
As her gun came on line, a face filled with hatred and rage appeared and without hesitating, Pauling pulled the trigger, firing a three-shot burst in less than a second.
She caught him just as he was taking aim at Tallon.
Her first bullet caught him at the hairline and a piece of scalp popped from his skull. Pauling knew her next two rounds were just
as accurate, but she hadn’t seen where they’d hit.
Waters’ face disappeared from view and the Rover shifted again.
Pauling heard the body hit the pavement on the other side.
She ducked around the front of the vehicle, her gun held in front of her with two hands.
Waters was on the ground, rolling onto his side. He still had his weapon, a short-barreled submachine gun, clenched in his blood-covered hands.
The rain had begun to fall harder and Pauling saw the scar tissue on the man’s face, noted the blood all over the front of his clothes and she realized he’d been shot by someone else, before he’d attacked them.
Waters was trying to bring the submachine gun to bear on Pauling so she fired five times in rapid succession, punching bullets into his sternum, and one into his forehead, inches below her first shot.
Waters collapsed back onto the wet pavement. The submachine gun clattered to the ground and Waters’ hands were pointed toward the sky, his fingers extended like claws.
His body was crooked, as if his hips were knocked out of place.
He was dead.
There was moaning, but it wasn’t coming from Waters.
It was Tallon.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
It had been a little over a week since Leo Waters had attacked them outside Pauling’s building.
Tallon had been treated for one gunshot wound. The bullet had grazed a rib but hadn’t broken it, and careened off into the night, carrying with it only a small amount of flesh and muscle.
Tallon had also suffered superficial cuts to his face and body from the exploding glass. They were small, however, and wouldn’t require stitches.
He had been treated and released from the hospital after two days.
They received visits from the police, FBI and the army, as well as several government agents who offered no specific affiliations with an organization.
Pauling shared everything she had, withholding only the admission that she had private access to the FBI’s servers. Instead, she had implied she had received all of the information from the deceased military investigator, Thomas Wainwright.
The visitor from the army confirmed that Wainwright had been given the nickname Reacher Jr. for his physical resemblance to the original legendary special investigator.
The same official had stated that Wainwright had done his homework on Reacher, and must have found out about Pauling’s connection with him.
Seeing the case as either a dead end, or recognized that progress in the Halbert case required help outside the system, he had sent the files to Pauling, implying they were from Reacher in order to overcome any reluctance she might have to getting involved.
When the last interview was finished, and the last quiet man who asked questions but offered nothing in return had left, Pauling poured a glass of wine for herself and an expensive glass of scotch for Tallon.
They were in her living room, Tallon still sporting bandages from their encounter with Waters. Candles were lit and the sky, visible through the living room’s large windows, was a dark purple, streaked with jagged ribbons of light gray clouds. Above them, the stars would soon appear.
“I’m still not sure who was crazier, Jacobs or Waters,” Tallon said. “One’s insanity was obvious, the other one hid it well.”
“In some ways Jacobs was the more dangerous because of that,” Pauling said. “It allowed him to get into positions of power. The kind that Waters could never achieve.”
They sat in silence for a moment, still digesting everything that had happened. The incredible amount of death and tragedy Waters and Jacobs had caused.
Pauling had brought in a piece of paper from her office and it was now on the couch next to her. She glanced at it and Tallon followed her gaze.
“More paperwork from them?” he asked. “Jesus, I’ve signed so many releases and statements my wrist is hurting more than my gunshot wound.”
Pauling laughed. “No, this isn’t anything to do with the case.”
He sensed there was more to it. Pauling’s fabulous, husky voice had grown softer. She had a mysterious expression on her face and Tallon thought she had never looked more beautiful than she did right then.
He savored the vision of her and then asked, “Come on, what gives?”
She smiled at him.
“Do you remember awhile back asking me about maybe making our relationship a little more consistent?”
He laughed. “Consistent? Doesn’t sound like a word I would use, but okay. Yeah, I remember the conversation. It was fairly one-sided as I recall.” He raised an eyebrow, letting her know that he’d made the offer, but she hadn’t responded.
“My signature on this piece of paper would be a step in that direction,” she said.
“What is it? A pre-nup?” he asked, a smile on his face.
Pauling laughed and handed the sheet of paper to Tallon. He read it over and then let out a long, low whistle.
“Holy cow, I would be a kept man.”
“You’re a keeper, I’ll admit that,” Pauling said. “This is just a step. I’m still going to work cases, but they’re going to be fewer and only ones in which I’m really interested. Pro bono, actually. But without the hassle of running my own company. Which means I’ll have more time for other things.”
“Like what?” he asked.
She signed the paper with a flourish and focused her green-eyed gaze on Tallon.
“Like you.”
* * *
THE END
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Also by Dan Ames
The JACK REACHER Cases #1 (A Hard Man To Forget)
The JACK REACHER Cases #2 (The Right Man For Revenge)
The JACK REACHER Cases #3 (A Man Made For Killing)
The JACK REACHER Cases #4 (The Last Man To Murder)
The JACK REACHER Cases #5 (The Man With No Mercy)
The JACK REACHER Cases #6 (A Man Out For Blood)
The Jack Reacher Cases #7 (A Man Beyond The Law)
The JACK REACHER Cases #8 (The Man Who Walks Away)
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DEAD WOOD (John Rockne Mystery #1)
HARD ROCK (John Rockne Mystery #2)
COLD JADE (John Rockne Mystery #3)
LONG SHOT (John Rockne Mystery #4)
EASY PREY (John Rockne Mystery #5)
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SUGAR (Wade Carver Thriller #2)
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THE KILLING LEAGUE (Wallace Mack Thriller #1)
THE MURDER STORE (Wallace Mack Thriller #2)
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DEATH BY SARCASM (Mary Cooper Mystery #1)
MURDER WITH SARCASTIC INTENT (Mary Cooper Mystery #2)
GROSS SARCASTIC HOMICIDE (Mary Cooper Mystery #3)
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TO FIND A MOUNTAIN (A WWII Thriller)
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STANDALONE THRILLERS:
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THE RECRUITER
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SHORT STORIES:
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About the Author
Dan Ames is a USA TODAY Bestselling Author, Amazon Kindle #1 bestseller and winner of the Independent Book Award for Crime Fiction.
www.authordanames.com
dan@authordanames.com