by Ty Patterson
‘Word spread around. I got more work. I recruited Keyser and Kittrell. Kittrell was like heaven’s gift to me. A man with the same name as mine?’
He laughed in amusement, relaxed, yet alert. No one else shared his humor.
‘As soon as Keyser and Kittrell got on board, I made plans for Kittrell. He would be the red herring if anything went wrong. The two of them didn’t suspect a thing. They followed my orders and executed them without a question. They thought this was Mayo and Kane work.’
‘Kittrell did the background checks on any problem person. Keyser did the threats. Not physical. Verbal. He has this look. Had.’
The deep laugh came again. He could have been in a corporate boardroom. Or out on the golf course, schmoozing with clients.
‘I had these guys,’ he looked at the gunmen, ‘for wet work. I knew enough of them from my black ops days.’
‘We had a sweet operation that the law firm didn’t know of. No one would suspect me. I was too obvious. People would reckon I couldn’t be that stupid.’
He slapped a palm against his thigh and laughed louder at Meghan’s expression. ‘You didn’t think I was involved, did you?’
The laughter died out and his face darkened. ‘Then Keyser and Kittrell grew a conscience.’
‘Toccoa man came up. He had to be eliminated. Those two didn’t want to go that far. They realized this wasn’t law firm work.’
‘I could have had them killed,’ he ran a finger along the barrel of his handgun. ‘It would have been messy, though. I put watchers on their families. They got the message.’
‘Keyser retired, but I still had eyes and ears on him.’ He turned his head in the direction of the station.
‘He gave us the slip today. Brought his death on himself.’
He smiled smugly at his justification and carried on. ‘Kittrell followed me to New York and behaved. He didn’t have a choice. His home was bugged. His phones were tapped. He and his family had men on them constantly.’
‘Then he heard about Feitz. He hadn’t been involved in it, however he felt guilty.’
Disbelief spread across his handsome face. Guilt didn’t belong in his world. He delivered a service, got paid handsomely, that’s all that mattered.
‘I tried reasoning with him. He didn’t listen. He wanted to go to the cops. I told him his family would die.’
He sighed. People. If only they would be reasonable. ‘I didn’t expect him to kidnap his daughter. That was a curveball.’
‘I did the next best thing.’
‘I deployed the program on him.’
He chuckled, a rich warm sound that had soothed and comforted his clients. ‘I almost laughed and gave it away when you folks visited me. That would have been something.’
‘You two didn’t give up.’ His tone was almost admiring.
‘Josh Kittrell was erased, several red herrings were in place, and yet you two didn’t stop looking.’
‘We were searching for his daughter,’ Beth spoke through gritted teeth.
Kittrell shrugged. The daughter didn’t matter.
His barrel pointed at Meghan. ‘You were attacked. That was my doing too. I created that social media storm, hoping someone would act on it. That punk did. That too didn’t deter you.’
‘You two survived that grab. You got lucky that the cops arrived on time.’
Something crossed his face and he stepped back.
‘No more hunting for you, ladies,’ he repeated. He looked up at the green canopy above them. ‘It’s a good place to die. Your friends will be taken care of, too.’
He glanced at his watch and made a gesture to his men.
A shooter came forward.
The gunmen at the rear moved to the sides.
Beth threw a panic stricken look at Meghan.
Meghan tried to reassure her with her eyes.
What can I say?
‘It’ll be painless,’ Kittrell promised, from behind his men.
The shooter’s gun rose. Meghan closed her eyes involuntarily; her body tightened.
A shot rang out.
Chapter Forty
Meghan flinched and waited for darkness to carry her.
I haven’t died before. Don’t know how it feels. Wait! I’m ali --.
A body crashed into her just as more shots sounded around them. She landed, someone rolled on top of her and rolled off.
She was in a thicket, several feet to the side of the clearing. Something moved in her vision.
She turned slowly and saw her sister glaring at her. She was ten feet away, taking cover in another bush, her face streaked with soil, leaves stuck in her hair.
‘Is it Zeb?’ Beth mouthed.
‘Maybe. Don’t know. Did you see anyone?’
‘No. When this is over –’.
The shadow loomed over Beth without warning. A shooter, his gun lowering, his eyes fixed on the woman beneath.
Meghan moved without conscious thought.
Her hand swept on the ground. Grabbed what little gravel it could. Flung it at the shooter.
The shooter spotted the motion. Raised his head. Flinched and ducked.
Meghan rose. One foot to steady herself. Another to power herself.
She flew and came under the rising gun.
Slapped it away in a move Zeb had made them practice thousands of times.
Her elbow slammed in the shooter’s throat.
Beth kicked his legs from underneath.
The shooter fell. Beth grabbed his gun and the sisters fled.
Searching fire came their way.
They ducked and moved apart. Meghan hid behind a tree trunk while Beth burrowed in another dense shelter.
Silence returned to the wood.
Meghan dropped to the ground and peered around the trunk cautiously.
She was farther away from the clearing. Still with a good view of it.
She slowed her breathing, let time slow, and took everything in.
The shooter who was to execute her, lay sprawled on the ground. Another gunman lay behind where they had been standing. No one else was visible.
Shot by snipers from the front and the back?
She remembered a flurry of shots when Beth had dove into her. She didn’t see any more bodies.
Kittrell’s men returning fire at the snipers?
She counted the bodies.
Ten including Kittrell, now down to seven.
She strained her ears. Didn’t hear anything. No footsteps. No shots. No bodies moving in brush.
She sought out Beth and found her a distance away.
Beth sensed her glance.
Can’t see anything, her lips moved.
A bird call sounded in the distance.
A shot rang out.
Another bird called out. Got an acknowledgement.
Beth’s pale face broke into a smile. She fist pumped silently.
Meghan felt a flame of hope surge inside her.
Bird calls. Bwana. Roger.
She studied the woods, trying to locate the shooters and her friends.
A wind blew lazily and branches swayed. A brush rustled and her heart leapt in her throat.
It was nothing.
She felt the man’s presence before he grabbed her by her hair.
He dragged her up; his barrel jammed against her back, and turned her around.
‘I got one,’ he murmured in a headset.
There was no gloating in his voice or face. He removed a wicked looking blade and thrust it at her eyes.
‘Where’s the other one?’
Meghan couldn’t answer. Words stuck in her throat. Her breath came fast.
The blade came closer to her right eye.
She stared at it fascinated.
‘I won’t ask again.’
‘You won’t have to,’ an amused voice whispered.
The earth seemed to part and from it rose a tall, dark figure.
The gunman whirled.
The figure moved fas
t, so fast that Meghan couldn’t comprehend. The gunman’s breath seemed to leave him.
He slumped against the figure for a second. Fell to the ground.
The dark man looked down, his face iron and granite, his eyes cold and merciless.
They were smiling when he raised his head and looked at Meghan.
Bwana.
Kittrell turned and ran the moment his gunman was shot.
Straight into the depths of the woods, following a dim trail that only he knew.
How, whirled through his mind several times. He discarded it and quickened his run when he heard shooting behind him.
At the end of the dim trail was a getaway vehicle that only he knew of. The rest of his men had concealed their rides near the station.
A private aircraft was waiting for him at the airport.
He had stashes of cash all over the world. Apartments. He would use Dividing Zero on himself.
He had planned for every outcome.
For this one too.
He lengthened his stride, confidence filling him.
His step faltered.
Was there someone behind that brush ahead?
No. Just the wind.
He passed it and a shadow moved.
There was someone.
A brown haired man stepped into view. Lean. Dressed in black. Standing casually. Dark eyes watching him.
Kittrell didn’t stop his motion.
He changed direction. Headed to the man who was less than ten feet away.
Always attack!
His Sig Sauer rose to shoulder level. His finger rested on the trigger. It started depressing.
The man reacted instantaneously; he leapt at Kittrell, coming under the gun hand, and slapped it away.
The shot went wide. His gun went flying.
The man’s fingers tried to grasp Kittrell’s hand.
Before he could apply a hold, Kittrell’s left arm flashed and his Glauca blade pierced towards the man’s middle.
Always deceive!
The man seemed to roll backwards. The knife cut air an inch away from his body.
The man caught Kittrell's knife hand in an iron grip. His other hand descended to the lawyer's shoulder. He pivoted and threw the lawyer away.
Kittrell flew through the air.
He twisted his body, absorbed the impact, and rose to his feet easily.
His gun lay a few feet away. His Glauca was still in his hand
The man stood in front of him. Breathing easily. Regarding him curiously.
He's faster than I thought he would be!
Kittrell attacked. Coming low like a cobra strike. The blade ready for offense or defense.
The man waited till the last moment; leaned back in a deceptively lazy move and let the knife go past him.
The man evaded Kittrell’s up-thrust knee and for a fraction of a second, the lawyer was off-balance.
An elbow slammed into Kittrell’s ribs and his breath whooshed out.
The man applied a hold and threw Kittrell again. This time, over his shoulder.
Kittrell landed, rolled, and got up smoothly. His knife lay at his feet; before he could retrieve it, the man went on the attack.
A blow went to Kittrell's throat. He ducked and counter punched. The man rolled with it.
Kittrell followed up with an eye-gouge. His fingers slipped on the man’s face.
Shots sounded in the distance. The man faltered for a moment.
Kittrell head butted him. Hard. Split the man’s forehead and smiled in triumph when blood flowed down the man’s face.
The smile disappeared when his neck was grabbed and a hammer blow struck his ribs. Broke one.
Another blow. Broke another rib.
He groaned deep and punched furiously and broke away.
The man let him go.
Kittrell fell gasping.
A deep rage flooded him. He was a Type A; an alpha male. Some random dude wasn’t going to beat him.
The gun caught his attention.
He dove at it. Got a hand on it.
Its grip filled his palm. He turned.
The man was nearly on him.
He curled his finger. Started raising the gun.
No need to aim. He’s close.
The man closed in, moving so fast, he seemed to blur.
Too close to fire.
Another hammer struck him in the ribs. The blow spread fire through him, sucking away his oxygen.
Something happened to his wrists.
They became liquid. He heard a scream.
It was his.
The dark eyes bore down on him. The Sig’s barrel turned sideways.
Not sideways. Pointing at me.
His breath caught. He tried to engage his mind. A thought came foremost to his mind.
‘Who are you?’
Words were an effort. Pain seared his body with white heat. He knew his wrists were broken. As were his elbows.
Time stood still. Life stood still. The woods strained to hear.
‘The man whose friends you harmed,’ came the reply.
Kittrell thought he saw flame lance through the bore and shoot towards him.
Then he saw nothing. Felt nothing.
Chapter Forty-One
The cleanup took an hour and when it was finished, four shooters remained alive.
Bwana and Roger cuffed and gagged them. The twins collected their weapons and dumped them in the clearing.
Meghan knew Beth was smouldering and kept her distance. Her sister’s face was red, her eyes narrow in rage.
When the last of the men had been secured, Beth raised her head.
‘You didn’t think of telling me?’ she took a long stride and confronted her, anger and the remains of fear exploding out of her in a burst.
A snicker.
Beth whirled round and saw Bwana and Roger’s studiously neutral expressions.
‘You two. You didn’t think of warning me, either?’
Her eyes flashed and looked in the depths of the woods.
‘Where’s Bear? Chloe?’
There was a thud in the distance and shadows moved. One of them resolved into a tall man, a thick beard covering his face.
He raised his hands defensively when Beth charged at him. ‘Not my idea! I was just following orders.’
‘Me too,’ a petite woman stepped into view. Chloe.
‘Whose orders?’ Beth snarled.
‘Yours, I am sure,’ she whirled back on her sister.
‘Babe? Sis? Beth?’ Meghan raised her voice above Beth’s tirade.
Beth stopped.
‘You wear your heart on your sleeve. Your face would have revealed we had backup. We knew a lot, but we needed a confession from someone. This was the only way.’
The red mist left Beth. Cool air cleared her mind. She started figuring things out. ‘You planned all this?’
‘Jeez, no! Coming close to dying wasn’t in the plan. I figured Keyser would confess or reveal Mr. M.’ She shrugged and waved her hands. ‘I didn’t expect all this.’
Beth started trembling as shock set in. She blinked back tears and donned her jacket. She zipped it up, taking her time to get herself under control.
‘If Kittrell knew what a pain in the neck you are, he would have shot you outright,’ she wiped her eyes, and looked at her friends.
‘Where’s Zeb?’
Zeb came through from the depths of the woods, moving languidly toward them.
‘Kittrell?’
‘Won’t trouble us.’
‘You cut it fine, didn’t you?’ Beth smiled to take the sting out of her words.
Zeb didn’t reply. He exchanged a glance with Bwana.
They had given the watchers in New York the slip. Had chartered a flight and come to Courtville before the rendezvous. They had taken positions and had watched the twins meet Keyser.
If we had arrived earlier, we would have spotted Keyser and his crew. We would have checked out the surroundings.
We lost time following them in the woods. Any longer and --.
He tossed a miniature recorder to Beth. ‘Everything’s in there. Kittrell’s voice is loud and clear.’
Sirens wailed in the distance signaling the arrival of the law enforcement machinery. The local police scratched their heads and looked bemusedly at the bodies. The sheriff drove up along with his deputies. An hour later the state police turned up.
Statements were given. The ticket agent was interviewed. He said he was to call a number when a pair of women turned up.
The caller had said the women were his nieces and wanted to make sure they had arrived at the station safely.
It was thin, but the ticket agent was, at best, guilty of stupidity.
Calls were made to the NYPD. Chang verified the twins’ identity.
The sheriff probed Zeb and his friends. They were carrying an arsenal and had waged a war.
‘Defending ourselves,’ Zeb protested mildly.
He knew how this would play. The call came two hours later. First to the sheriff, then to the police chief and finally to the senior most state police officer.
Chang and Pizaka had pulled a few strings. Clare had yanked a rope.
The cops straightened, listened, looked a few times at Zeb and hung up. The state police disappeared as did the sheriff.
The police chief hung around till the bodies were taken away. The system would kick in, but no identities would be revealed.
The cover story was that a meth gang had been busted in a violent showdown.
‘You look like a gangbanger, in any case,’ Roger drawled at Bwana.
Three hours later, Meghan looked at her watch in surprise. It was just four p.m. They had met Keyser at eleven. It felt like they had been in the woods for the entire day.
They shook hands with the police chief who was glad to see them leave and didn’t hide it.
They climbed into their rides, in their usual formation. Meghan with Zeb, at the front of one vehicle. Beth in the rear with Bear and Chloe. Bwana and Roger in another set of wheels.
Southern Illinois Airport, initially, and then New York. Home.
‘Maddie is still out there. So is Josh Kittrell,’ Beth spoke softly above the hum of tires.
Meghan turned to face her. ‘I was wondering when you would mention that.’
