Once Quiet (Jack Widow Book 5)

by Scott Blade

  The wood splintered.

  The gun worked just fine.

  Widow stopped at the front door. He pressed his back to the wall near the hinge side and waited. He listened carefully.

  He heard nothing. Then he realized he didn’t hear the dog barking anymore either, which pissed him off because he liked dogs.

  Widow got down on one knee. He reached out, fast and grabbed the door handle. He twisted the knob and bounced back a bit, pointed the gun into the door’s opening.

  Nothing happened on the other side.

  He stood up and backed away and kicked the door open. He jumped back to the wall, waited.

  Nothing happened.

  Widow peered in, quickly.

  The foyer and the family room were still pretty dark.

  The moonlight came in through the open door and the skylights, which helped.

  He looked in and saw two figures on the floor. They both looked like women.

  Widow stormed in and checked the open doorways and the stairs and behind the furniture and the corners. Nothing. No movement.

  Then he checked the closest woman.

  He grabbed her arm and spun her over. It was Miranda. He shook her. She didn’t make a sound. He looked her over. She hadn’t been shot. He saw no blood or bullet holes. He listened to her nose. She was breathing. He looked her face over. She had a nice shiner. Looked like someone punched her out and ran off.

  He turned to the other woman. She lay sprawled out near the kitchen entrance.

  It wasn’t Crispin, unless Crispin had changed into business attire.

  Whoever it was, she was breathing—heavily.

  He got close and saw the woman that he had never seen before looked just like a woman that he had seen before.

  She was Lucy Escobar. Which was impossible.

  He said, “Who the hell are you?”

  “Escobar. FBI.”

  “No I mean who? Lucy Escobar is dead. I saw her in Naples.”

  Escobar looked at him, her eyes opened wide. She looked scared.

  Then he saw her gut. She had been shot and bad. She was bleeding out everywhere.

  “You killed her?”

  “What? No! I liked her! A lot!”

  “Are you Qatal?”

  Widow stared at her. He knew the name, of course. He said, “No. I’m Jack Widow.”

  She said, “Jack Widow?”

  “Yes.”

  “I know you.”

  “How?”

  She said, “My sister. She spoke of you.”

  Widow felt his heart race. He felt a thousand times the pain he had felt when he saw her body in that photograph.

  He said, “I didn’t know she talked about me.”

  “She did. She liked you a lot. Maybe too much. She was afraid to tell you. She was afraid it’d ruin whatever you guys had together.”

  “You’re her twin sister?”

  “Yes. I’m Halle Escobar.”

  “You’re also an FBI agent?”

  “Yes.”

  Widow nodded.

  She started to tear up. She said, “I’m so so sorry!”

  “Why?”

  “I caused this. I brought these maniacs here.”

  Widow stayed quiet.

  Escobar said, “Qatal told me that they were okay. He recommended them to me. He said they’d help me get answers.”

  Widow said, “Qatal?”

  He paused a beat.

  She asked, “What?”

  “He killed Lucy.”

  Widow had never seen words kill anyone before. But right then, he saw the will to leave flee from Halle Escobar’s eyes like a black hole had sucked it right out.

  He grabbed her and clutched his hands onto the blackening blood near the nine millimeter-sized hole in her stomach.

  He said, “No! Halle! You hang on!”

  “I did this! Let me die!”

  “No!”

  She said nothing. Her breathing slowed.

  Widow said, “Halle! I lost your sister too! Now stay alive! We’ll get him together!”

  She half smiled and said, “I want to see that!”

  Widow nodded.

  Escobar was slipping away fast.

  She said, “But I also want to see her again. I miss her.”

  Widow watched her die.

  Her arms fell limp and she let go of the gushing blood. Which slowed and stopped gushing because her heart wasn’t pumping anymore.

  Widow said, “I miss her too.”

  CHAPTER 59

  THE BERETTA WAS GETTING COLD IN WIDOW’S HAND. Which struck him as odd since he had just fired it. Then he wondered if it wasn’t the Beretta that was cold or if it was his hands, because he felt the same loss that he had felt ten years earlier.

  He had lost another Escobar. She was dead. And it was Qatal’s fault. Which meant that it was also his fault.

  Widow stood up. He listened through the house. He heard sounds, faint and distant, coming from the back bedroom.

  Widow didn’t run or scramble. He just walked. He walked straight back to Crispin’s bedroom, which was his first time being in it, although he had been hoping that he would’ve been invited in under different circumstances.

  Still, killing a man that needed killing was up there as a good reason.

  Widow burst through the door.

  He found the last watcher. The guy’s back was turned to Widow. He was holding Crispin down. He was clawing and tearing at her T-shirt. She was holding her own, fighting him off.

  The watcher must’ve thought Widow was one of his brothers, now dead, because he said, “Bro, I couldn’t wait. I had to have a taste. Did you finish with the boy?”

  Widow walked up close behind the guy.

  He towered over him by at least six inches.

  The watcher looked up and saw the moon had cast the shadow of a figure hulking behind him.

  He said, “Bro?”

  Widow hated being called “bro.”

  He reached up and jerked the guy off Crispin by the tuft of his hair. He pulled him away from her. He pinned him against the window.

  The guy tried to fight back. He tried to speak. But Widow waited until the guy had his mouth open and he shoved the gun barrel down the guy’s throat.

  The guy started gagging, violently.

  Widow said, “I’m gonna ask you one question.”

  The guy was up in the air. His feet dangled below him. Widow hadn’t even realized it, but he had lifted the guy off his feet.

  Widow said, “Shut up!”

  The guy stopped fighting.

  Widow said, “One question. Nod if you understand.”

  The watcher nodded.

  Widow took a breath and asked, “Where’s Qatal?” And then he jerked the barrel out of the guy’s mouth so he could answer.

  The watcher said, “I don’t know a Keytal.”

  Widow believed him. So, he stuffed the gun barrel back into his mouth and pulled the trigger.

  The bullet split clean through the back of the guy’s head. The window shattered and the guy’s brains splattered out with the shards of glass.

  CHAPTER 60

  CRISPIN SCREAMED. But it wasn’t over the watcher. She screamed because of the shock of it.

  She took a moment and inhaled and exhaled. Inhaled. Exhaled.

  She said, “Thank you. Where are my sons?”

  “They’re fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Widow smiled and said, “Yeah. They are fine.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Carson is on the roof. And Casey is headed into town on a dirt bike.”

  She repeated, “Thank you.”

  “Casey’s also armed.”

  “Armed?”

  “He has a gun.”

  Crispin got up from the bed and tugged at her clothes like she was embarrassed.

  She asked, “Miranda?”

  “Miranda is downstairs. She got hit hard, in the face.”

  “I saw i
t! That animal punched her and dragged me back here.”

  “What happened to the MK25?”

  “They took it.”

  Widow nodded.

  “We should call the police.”

  He nodded again.

  They walked back down the hall. Widow walked first. Crispin followed. She reached up and took his hand in hers as they passed Liam’s room.

  Widow felt nothing about it with respect to guilt. He wondered if she had.

  They walked into the living room.

  Miranda was sitting up, holding her head, and mumbling in Spanish.

  Widow was glad that everyone was okay.

  Then he heard the family dog barking again. Which made him smile for a moment, until he looked over at Halle Escobar.

  Crispin asked, “Who is she?”

  Widow paused a long beat and said, “I didn’t know her. I knew her sister. They were FBI agents. Good ones.”

  Everything seemed like it might actually get better.

  Suddenly, red and blue lights flashed through the front windows of the house and spilled in through the open front door.

  Crispin said, “Thank God! The police!”

  Then Widow said, “Wait!”

  He was pretty sure that Hogan was dead.

  CHAPTER 61

  HOGAN’S CRUISER WAS IN PARK in the Sossaman driveway. But Hogan wasn’t driving it.

  Widow stepped out after Crispin. He saw three faces, two of which he didn’t recognize.

  The one he did was Casey.

  There were two men with him. Both were well-built guys. Neither was especially big, but they weren’t small either. One guy had one of those Spartan beards, like the six guys who drove Widow in this direction to begin with.

  The other Widow did recognize after a second look. It was the guy in the pickup from the intersection earlier.

  Widow had seen him briefly in the side mirror. But it was him.

  The guy with the Spartan beard had one thick hand around Casey’s neck, from behind. And in the other he had a Mossberg shotgun pointed out, one-handed, directly at Widow.

  The guy from the truck also had a gun in his hands. It was some kind of ACR, but Widow didn’t recognize the make. It was too dark. Or the red and blue lights were too bright as they rotated and washed over the two men.

  The guy from the truck said, “Toss the gun, friend.”

  Widow looked at each of them again. Thought about it.

  He kept the Beretta in his hand, down by his side.

  The other guy said, “He’s talking to you, friend!”

  “I ain’t your friend!” Widow said.

  He was still holding hands with Crispin. He started to pull her back toward him and behind him. She couldn’t fight his pull because Widow wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  She was completely behind him in seconds.

  The guy from the truck chuckled.

  He said, “That’s not gonna protect her.”

  Widow stayed quiet.

  “None of you are protected. None of you are safe.”

  Widow said, “The real cops are on their way.”

  “Why would they be doing that?” the guy from the truck asked. Then he said, “We cut the phone lines. Cut the power. We scrambled your cellphones.”

  Widow didn’t break eye contact with him.

  “Oh yeah, we did that. Your phones don’t work. How could ya have called any cops?”

  Widow stayed quiet. Tightened his grip on the Beretta.

  The guy from the truck asked, “They all dead in there? The degenerate brothers? Did you kill them all? Man, you must be some kinda Rambo. You must think you’re a cowboy.”

  Widow said nothing.

  “You got a death wish, cowboy? Is that little lady from the FBI in there? She dead too?”

  Crispin closed her eyes. She clung tight to Widow’s back. He could feel her.

  The guy from the truck said, “Man! Oh, man! You kill four degenerates and a little old FBI lady? And for what? To protect little miss thing there?”

  The guy from the truck stepped closer. Widow felt Crispin clutch tighter to his back. He slipped his finger into the trigger housing of the Beretta.

  The guy from the truck said, “Come on out, miss thing. Let us get a good look at you. I wanna see what all the fuss is about.”

  Crispin stayed behind Widow.

  The guy from the truck said, “Judd!”

  The other guy must’ve been called Judd because he responded. He jerked Casey up off his feet by the neck. Casey started to choke.

  Crispin said, “Okay!”

  She jumped out from behind Widow. They were still holding hands.

  The guy from the truck said, “Come on over closer, honey. Step into the headlights.”

  Crispin let go of Widow’s hand. He didn’t know what to do and that terrified him.

  He watched Crispin step closer to the headlights.

  The guy from the truck said, “Well, now! Honey, you are a fine-looking woman. No wonder there’s so much fuss out there over you! Did you know my partner wants to kill you?”

  Partner?

  Widow said, “You mean Gilpin?”

  The guy from the truck stopped smiling. He asked, “Now how do you know that name, friend?”

  “Gilpin is already in custody. I told you, the cops are on their way.”

  “What you talking about? I killed your cop here.”

  Widow motioned for Crispin to come back. She ran back to him before the guy from the truck could contest it.

  She hid behind him again.

  Widow said, “You killed Hogan?”

  “That’s right, cowboy.”

  “That’s too bad. The cops aren’t going to like that.”

  “I just told you that your cop is dead. Ain’t no one coming.”

  Widow said, “Not local cops.”

  “What cops you talking about?”

  “Navy cops. NCIS. My guys. They’re coming.”

  The guy from the truck paused a long beat. He eyeballed Widow. Up and then down. Back up again.

  He asked, “And who are you, cowboy?”

  “My name is Jack Widow. What’s yours?”

  Widow glanced back at Judd. Then back at the other guy. Then back at Judd, but this time he made eye contact with Casey. He was still breathing, just in pain, Widow figured.

  The guy from the truck said, “My name is Qatal. And I know you. I heard of you. You were like the boogeyman. An undercover cop among the Navy SEALs.”

  Widow said, “I heard of you too.”

  “You have? All good things, I hope?”

  “I heard you’re the dead man who kidnapped and tortured and raped and killed my friend.”

  Widow’s eyes moved back and forth. Casey. Judd. Qatal.

  Qatal said, “I killed a lot of people. Be more specific?”

  “Escobar? In Naples?”

  Qatal smiled, a big evil-looking grin. He said, “I sure did, cowboy. I raped her real good. That poor lass didn’t stand a chance.”

  Widow shouted, “Casey! Now!”

  Casey reached down and pulled the Glock out of his waistband. The Glock that Widow had given him earlier. And he fired it blindly at Judd. The bullet burst into Judd’s stomach. And Casey fired a second time. A different bullet fired into the same stomach.

  Judd had made two critical errors. The first was not patting Casey down. Widow figured that they wouldn’t suspect a scared kid to be armed. And they hadn’t.

  The second mistake was holding a Mossberg pump-action shotgun one-handed. It can only fire once when the shooter’s other hand is too busy to pump it.

  The Mossberg went off right after the second round from the Glock hit his stomach.

  The commotion behind Qatal caused him to react, which Widow was counting on. And he turned to see what was going on.

  Widow jerked Crispin to the right and away from the Mossberg’s slug. Then he jerked his hand up, straight and fired the Beretta in Qatal’s direction.
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  He squeezed the trigger until the gun clicked empty. Overkill.

  Turned out he hadn’t needed the other bullets in the magazine because the first one had blown right through Qatal’s face.

  He killed Qatal in one shot. More than he had deserved.

  Judd had fallen to the ground next. He was clenching his stomach.

  Casey took the gun with him and ran over to his mother. He kept the muzzle pointed at Judd.

  Widow took the gun from him and said, “You did good.”

  Casey and Crispin hugged each other in a tight embrace. Widow stood by, not knowing what to do.

  Both Casey and Crispin grabbed him and pulled him in. They hugged him.

  Carson ran out of the house. He had been watching the whole thing. He ran over and joined them.

  They stayed there for a long time. Widow liked the feeling.

  A few minutes later a black military chopper flew in low over the trees and found a spot in the front yard and landed.

  The rotor wash was strong, but not even it could separate them.

  CHAPTER 62

  WIDOW STAYED WITH THE SOSSAMANS for Carson’s birthday, but none of them stayed at the ranch. They were all flown back to the Air Force base in Malmstrom.

  They celebrated Carson’s birthday there, in the Officer’s Club.

  Which Carson thought was pretty cool. He signed it to his mother and she relayed the information to Widow.

  Even Miranda was there. And Liam Sossaman was there as well, for the first day. But he was later flown to a hospital far away. Widow wasn’t told where and he didn’t ask. He told Crispin that he was moved and she didn’t ask about him either.

  It was Widow’s impression that it was out of her hands anyway. She no longer had to make the choice to unplug him. And Widow imagined that she would never see him again either.

  She was a free woman.

  He also learned from the NCIS agents that Sossaman Medical Tech was under investigation, but afterward it would be broken apart and the shares would be sold off. Crispin would be compensated for her portion.

  Widow stayed there with her and the kids for a couple more days. And he loved every second of it. He could see himself falling hard for her. She was a great woman. And they were great kids. Better than he deserved, he thought.

  One morning, early on, he told Crispin goodbye.