by Scott Blade
The bullet hit the grill and then the brick. A couple sprayed over my head and shattered two large windows from the house.
He stopped firing. I knew that he wasn’t reloading, but if he had been that would’ve been my chance to return fire. He was doing something else. I knew what he should do only a microsecond before he figured it out.
He was aiming at the propane tank beneath the grill.
I jumped up and dove to the right-hand side.
He fired the Five-seven.
Two bullets ruptured the tank. The smell of gas filled the air fast, like a flood of water.
He fired again and the tank exploded.
A small fireball erupted into the air.
I had seen three or four fireballs that night. I wasn’t sure because I had lost count.
I rolled away from the fireball and back to my feet, full stance, and took aim.
Tega’s head was in my sight, but his body was behind Hank. He stood tight behind him. And they were over 30 feet away.
I had no clean shot.
I screamed at Tega.
“Wait!”
Tega pointed the Five-seven at me.
Tega shouted, “Gringo? Is that still you?”
He didn’t fire, not yet. I was too far for him to aim at. At least I hoped that I was.
He had done pretty well with the propane tank.
His gun was getting low on ammo. The Five-seven held a good number of rounds. I couldn’t recall the capacity of a standard magazine. I knew that he had fewer bullets than I had.
The P90 held 50 rounds. I had the advantage in that department, but that advantage was little use.
He hadn’t wanted to fire because if he missed then he’d have to reload and then I’d have him.
He shouted, “Mr. Reacher, you are a hard man to kill.”
I shouted, “No one else has to die. Let him go.”
The twin engines from the plane hummed and vibrated in their casings. They were ready to go and then I realized that Tega wouldn’t shoot Hank. He needed him. His pilot was dead. He’d need Hank to fly the plane. I wasn’t sure if he had realized that yet. So I shouted, “Your men are dead! Your pilot is dead! You aren’t going anywhere! Not without that man to fly your plane!”
Tega shouted, “I’ll kill him! I don’t care! I’ll find another way out!”
He wasn’t bluffing. He was rich and connected. He’d find another way. I had only one play left. I had to gamble.
I said, “You can still leave, Tega! Let them go!”
Tega shouted, “Drop your weapon! And I will let them live! Hell, I’m so impressed with you, Gringo, that I’ll let you live!”
I waited. I stayed quiet.
He tilted his head. A crazed look came across his face and he shot Hank just to prove he wasn’t bluffing.
Chapter 56
The weather over the lake was about as good for flying conditions as it was going to get.
The morning hours fast approached and hints of early morning sunlight pierced through the cloudy sky. The bottoms of the storm clouds turned to a dark gray color as the sun’s light shone through them.
On a normal morning on Jarvis Lake, early-bird fishermen would’ve been waking up and readying their boats and trailers for the drive to the boat launch. But this hadn’t been a normal night. The only emergency employees left in the town of Black Rock had to be the fire department. I was certain that they had their hands full with the fires.
Across the lake, the Eckhart Medical Center was still blazing. The fire had spread to the nearby buildings. No way was the fire department able to help anyone else right now.
Oskar Tega had shot Hank through the leg. The old guy had screamed a bloodcurdling scream that wrenched through my ears and echoed across the lake.
If it had been a normal morning, I was sure that everyone on the lake would’ve heard him. Probably the gunshot too. But no one was on the lake. Not today.
Tega shouted, “Throw it away! Or the next one kills him!”
I shouted, “Okay! Okay!”
I tossed the gun and raised my hands. I wasn’t sure what the next few minutes would bring. I prayed that Tega wouldn’t shoot me.
He moved Hank aside and stepped out onto the dock.
He approached me, keeping me in his sights the whole time. He got about ten feet away. He had me at his mercy. I was sure that I was about to die, but Hank saved my life.
Tega looked down the barrel of the Five-seven and took aim; then he glanced over his head back at Hank. It was a quick glance. Not long enough for me to rush him, but long enough for him to see that Hank had started limping over to the gun of the guy that I had shot a moment ago.
Tega fired in the air over my head. Hank froze.
Tega kept the gun on me and shouted, “Old man! I will make a deal with you. You fly my plane and give me no more trouble and I will let him come with us. I’ll let you both live.”
Hank stopped limping. He turned back to Tega. I saw that he was thinking it over. He took a long minute.
Make up your damn mind, old man!
Then Hank said, “Give me your word?”
Tega rolled his eyes. Then he shouted, “What, you don’t trust me, old timer?”
He paused a beat and said, “I give you my word.”
Hank said, “Den you got yourself a deal.”
Tega lowered the Five-seven and said, “You’re a lucky man, Gringo. Come on. Let’s go! I’m on a tight schedule.”
Tega motioned for me to go toward the plane.
He stepped back and maintained a ten-foot distance from me, well out of my reach. He was a smart guy. I guessed that was how he had lasted so long in his world.
I stayed quiet and followed his instructions. Kept my hands raised high and walked toward the open door of the seaplane.
I stopped at Hank and helped him walk back to the plane. He was hurt, but he’d survive.
We boarded and Tega followed.
The engines were much louder from inside the plane. This plane was barebones. It had a cockpit and two rear benches. Metal. No seatbelts. No modern luxuries. It was like a military plane.
Tega shouted over the roar of the engines.
“You sit in the seat over there at the front of the plane. I want you far from me and always in my line of sight.”
I followed his instructions and sat down on the bench.
Tega remained standing near the back of the plane. He slammed the door shut and locked it. The metal sound echoed in the chamber even over the engine noise.
He kept the gun on me. Then he shouted, “Try anything! Querido Dios! I’ll shoot you dead!”
I nodded.
He shouted up to Hank, who had made it to the pilot’s seat and buckled himself in.
“Old timer, take us up!”
Hank nodded back and started pushing buttons and moving levers. Then he tugged on a handle from above. The plane’s engines roared louder, as if they were changing gears, and then the plane started to shift and move forward.
Hank took it out on the water and then turned the plane to face the longest stretch of the lake. He accelerated forward.
He shouted back at Tega, “Ya’d better sit down!”
“Don’t worry about me, old timer. You just fly the plane.”
Hank smiled and pushed another lever and the plane jetted forward in a powerful push.
The plane shot across the water—fast.
I felt the vibrations of the engines through the metal bench.
My ears rattled.
I looked out the plane’s window and saw the trees on the shoreline as we flew by.
Water splashed up.
We bounced once. Twice. And then we were up in the air. We climbed up into the low storm clouds.
Off in the distance, a lightning bolt flashed and crackled. The underbelly of the storm clouds lit up.
We climbed farther and faster.
Not a lot of things scared me. When I found out that my mother was dying fr
om cancer, I had been scared of losing her.
Right then, in that moment, I was a little scared.
Chapter 57
Tega never let his gun hand rest. But how long could he hold it up. Not forever. Probably not even that much longer. I was already impressed at how long he had managed to hold the Five-seven. The weight must’ve been straining his wrist.
I looked over at Hank. His leg was bleeding badly.
I shouted back to Tega, “His leg is bad. If I don’t clean him up, we won’t make it very far.”
Tega breathed heavily. Then he acknowledged that I was right.
He shouted, “No. Faye, you do it.”
Faye was the least dopey of all of the girls.
“You are a nurse, right?”
She nodded and stood up. She was woozy. Anyone could see that.
Tega patted her on her butt.
She got closer to me.
I said in a regular voice which sounded like a whisper in the noisy chamber, “Faye, Chris sent me.”
She looked at me. Her eyes faded in and out, but she was coherent, mostly.
She asked, “Chris?”
There was plenty of recognition in her voice.
“Yes.”
She walked to Hank and smiled at him.
She said, “I’m going to take a look at your leg.”
She plopped down into the copilot’s seat. Then she leaned over and started checking his wound. I leaned in and looked like I was watching, but I spoke in a low voice to both of them.
I said, “I’m going to get that gun from him. As soon as I make a move, open the rear cargo door.”
Hank glanced over at me from the corner of his eye.
He said, “Are ya sure? Ya could get sucked out.”
“Don’t worry about me. If we fly out of the country, we’re all dead.”
I started to turn back. I was going to rush him. I’d probably get shot in the process. I had no better option and then Faye reached back and grabbed my arm—tight. Her nails dug into my right forearm.
She said, “Wait. Let me distract him.”
Before I could object, she made her move.
She stood up and wobbled over to him.
Tega jumped up from the bench and pointed the Five-seven at her.
She stopped and said, “Relax. I need the um...”
She scratched her head.
“I need the first aid kit. It’s under the bench.”
Tega glanced down at it.
A bright orange case was stuck beneath the bench, just as she had said.
Tega nodded and motioned with the gun for her to grab it.
I clenched my fists. I flexed the muscles in my legs. I was ready to pounce on him.
Tega returned his aim to me.
Faye knelt down, still acting dopey. Or she really was. I couldn’t tell.
She grabbed the case, unhooked it from the bench, and then she swung it in a fast and vicious backhand.
The case nailed Tega square in the face. The bottom swung open and the contents flew out.
There was no first aid stuff in it. There was a flare gun with a bunch of flares.
The flare gun bounced onto the floor near the other girls.
At the same time, Hank hit the button to open the rear door and I leapt up toward Tega.
A bright warning light came on and flashed red across the interior of the plane. A loud warning sound buzzed. It continued to buzz as the back of the plane cracked open.
Immediately a blast of air sucked through the cabin like a vacuum. It was light at first, but became heavy and gained more power as the doors continued to slowly open.
I reached Faye first. I grabbed her and flung her to the front of the cabin. I had no choice. She had a tiny frame. She was probably a size zero. The wind would have sucked her right out.
Then I swung blindly at Tega with a powerful left hook with a huge fist on the end.
I hit him square in the shoulder. He had the gun pointed in my direction. He fired it.
My punch flung him off balance and several bullets whizzed by me.
The Five-seven takes the same rounds as the P90, with the same non-ricochet bullet technology. They just slammed into the metal walls of the plane. No penetration.
I came back at him with a right jab. The plane bounced and the suction grew more powerful. It was hard to aim my blows. This one got him dead on the solar plexus, but it wasn’t the most powerful blow ever. Not my best work.
Even if I hadn’t had to fight in sketchy conditions, I was still exhausted from being awake for more than 24 hours.
Tega dropped his gun and let out a loud shriek. He flew back against the starboard bench. I realized that he wore body armor under his rain slicker.
He jumped up and came at me. I grabbed him and tried to throw him out the doors, but he seized my collar and used the momentum of the throw against me. He returned with a fast right jab and then a left hook.
His fist was small, but he had some muscle. He knew how to fight and he was fast; most little guys were. That was the biggest advantage that little guys had always had over me. They were weaker, but quick.
He aimed for my face, but he missed and caught me in the chest.
He would’ve been better off if he had gotten me in the face.
Still I was exhausted and it hurt, but I hadn’t squealed, not like he had. I shook it off and reared my right fist back, but he used dirty tactics. He kicked me in the groin.
Any man anywhere has at least one major weak spot—the groin. I was no different.
I stopped my punch and grabbed at my groin. It hurt like no kind of pain that I had felt in years.
I didn’t have time to worry about it. I tried to go at him again, but the pain hit me like a truck and I clamped up again.
Tega went for the Five-seven.
He got to it.
The rear door was now completely open.
Tega stood about six feet from me. We were both at the back of the plane.
He pointed the gun at me and once again I thought I was a dead man. Game over.
Tega began to squeeze the trigger, but just then from out of left field a flare from the flare gun launched out of the barrel. It hissed past me and torpedoed in Tega’s direction. It lit up the cabin in a bright orange flash. The flare jeered completely between us and shot out into the night.
It exploded outside the back of the plane.
A split second before it exploded, Tega had turned quickly and returned fire in the direction of the flare’s origin, but the explosion caused him to misfire. It threw him off balance.
He had intended to hit Faye Matlind. She had picked up the flare gun, loaded it, and fired it at Tega, but she missed.
Instead, Tega fired two rounds. They hit two different targets.
One round shot into the plane’s gauges. It caused all kinds of noises and alarms to start beeping and dinging.
The second bullet caused more damage. It did something that was rare for one of those rounds. It penetrated the pilot’s seat and shot through Hank’s chest.
The old guy fell forward and clenched his sternum.
He leaned against the controls and the plane dipped into a quick nosedive.
The girls tumbled forward into the cockpit. They were all wide awake now. The adrenaline from all of the danger had jumpstarted their bodies.
Tega stumbled a couple of paces forward and I stood my ground.
Hank’s head rose up. He pulled the controls back and got us out of the nosedive almost as fast as we had gone into it. He had fought in the Navy. I remembered.
Hank was a tough old guy.
Tega jumped back to his feet and pointed the gun at me before I could attack him.
He aimed at my chest and screamed, “Te vas a morir!”
Then Hank pulled back on the controls hard. Tega lost his balance and stumbled back a few feet toward the rear, near the edge.
I swiped at his gun hand with a fast backhand.
The F
ive-seven went flying into the air and the slipstream sucked it out of the plane. Then I reared back on my heels, bent my knees, and leapt forward. With all the muscles from my legs all the way up and into my neck I delivered the most powerful head-butt of my life, far more powerful than the one I had done three years ago on the football field.
My brow was rigid and powerful. This head-butt landed flat against Tega’s face, concaving it. Crushing his nose. Bashing his face to a pulp in one powerful and fatal blow. He was dead instantly. I knew it, but I’d never find out for sure because he went flying back in the air and the night wind sucked him out of the rear door. My body almost got sucked out after him, so I reached up with both arms and locked my palms against the ceiling, bracing myself and watched his departure in satisfaction as Oskar Tega flew up and out. Fast. His body whipped around like a leaf in a storm and seconds later he was lost to sight.
I said, “Adios.”
That was the last that anyone saw of Oskar Tega.
Chapter 58
The seaplane dipped and bounced. Hank tried his best to keep it steady, but the controls were damaged beyond the point of repair.
Hank bled all over the place. He was going to die soon. No doubt about it.
I held my hands over his wounds. One over the hole in his back and one over the hole in his chest.
“You gotta get da girls outta da plane,” Hank said to me.
I said, “Can’t you land us? Or tell me how.”
“I’ve lived a long life. My kids are grown. My wife died two years ago. Dat bastard killed da last friend dat I had in dis world. I’m dyin’. Let me go.”
I moved my hand and took a peek at his chest. He was right. Blood splattered and pooled out of the wound. There was no going back for him. Not under these conditions. Even a doctor onboard wouldn’t be able to help him. He’d have only a small chance at a hospital. He wasn’t going to make it.
He grabbed my hand with his and squeezed.
He said, “Let go.”
I nodded, pictured my mom, and then I let him go. He gripped his chest and stopped the bleeding as best he could.
He said, “I’m gonna fly low above da lake. You take da girls and jump out. And don’t wait. I won’t last.”
Then he took the plane down into a slow dive.
I grabbed his shoulder and said, “I’m glad that I met you.”
