She held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Just trying to have some fun.”
“Try watching Family Guy then.”
EIGHT
“Where the fuck are you?” Carver asked on Dalmas’ cell phone. Diane was watching Jersey Shore, lying on the bed.
“Calling me might be stupid. Are you on a secure line?”
“Pay phone. Now tell me what happened in front of the motel. Two Irish bruisers got shot… Was that your handiwork?”
“What do you think? You got the safe house compromised, Carver. I’ve taken the lady to someplace safer.”
“Make sure she’s at the court house tomorrow morning at ten.”
“No problem. You should look into the fact the safe house got compromised though. Either they followed you or bugged your car.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m a detective, remember? I’ll detect.”
“Fine. I will disconnect.” And Dalmas hung up.
“Carver’s pissed?” Diane asked.
“I made him look like an ass. I do that frequently. He dislikes it.”
“Don’t we all.”
NINE
Diane went to sleep wearing only red undies. Dalmas was pretty sure she did it to tease him. Luckily she didn’t try too much. He didn’t really want to hand her over to Monaghan.
He made himself another cup of coffee and sat on a chair with it. He wouldn’t go to sleep. He was good at it. It had come in handy sniping in Iraq. He could wait for a target to appear for 48 hours without sleeping, finally taking off the target’s head with one well-placed shot like nobody could.
He heard footsteps in the hallway. He grabbed a make-up mirror from Diana’s stuff and placed it so he could look through the peephole using the mirror.
Two guys in the hallway. Dalmas pulled the slide of his.45 and took a deep breath. He counted to three and took away the chair that had been propped against the handle.
He kicked the door open and swung the chair at the men in the hallway. They were big and wearing dark coats. The chair hit them against the head.
One of them fumbled for a gun behind his jacket. Dalmas shot him in the face.
The second one was already holding a gun. A silenced 9mm. Dalmas gave him a push. The 9mm fired into the ceiling. Dalmas’.45 fired three times at the thug’s central mass.
The room went silent again. The thugs were dead.
Diane stood on the bed, half-naked and screaming. It was the first time he saw her breast naked. They were very white and very full.
“Put on a shirt. We’re leaving.”
TEN
Dalmas was pissed. Obviously Monaghan had found a way to trace the pay phone Carver used to his cell phone. The cell phone was traced to the motel. Another safe house compromised. Plus, he couldn’t use the cell phone again. He would have Carver buy him a new one.
That night Diane slept in the car. She rested her head against Dalmas’ shoulder. It didn’t feel bad. He had to admit he felt sorry for this woman. She’d been in danger more times than anyone should.
He thought about Donna. He’d been gone for one night but already he missed her. Diane was a good-looking woman but lacked the kindness, the incredible warmth of his wife.
Soon he would hand Diane over to Carver at the Court Building. He wasn’t sure that would be the end of it though. It was a probability there would be another hearing. Maybe Monaghan would go free. Maybe Monaghan’s power would extend beyond jail. He sure as hell had proven how mighty he was by managing to track down Diane time and time again. It wouldn’t be easy to make sure Diane was safe. He couldn’t be with her every day. He had Donna, the kids, his job. Maybe he should set up a contingency plan.
Diane started to breathe uneasily. He figured she was having a nightmare. He kissed the top of her head and brushed his fingers through her hair like he used to do when Donna had the nightmares after their daughter was molested.
“Don’t worry. I will make sure you can sleep tight real soon.”
ELEVEN
Dalmas parked the SUV a block away from the Court Building. He stepped out. A Crown Vic parked and Carver left it.
Dalmas walked off. Carver entered the SUV and drove off. Dalmas got into the Crown Vic and drove off.
“Are you okay?” Carver asked Diane.
“I guess. Dalmas took good care of me. Did you find out how Monaghan was able to track me down?”
“That fucker managed to put a tracking device on my car. He had a few guys following me around as well. Very unsuspicious guys, like an old dude and a girl. I’m telling you, your boyfriend is a resourceful sonofabitch.”
“I know,” she said. “You caught the people following you?”
“Punched out the old guy, the girl walked. They made me look like a fucking amateur.”
“Everyone looks like one compared to Dalmas.”
Carver shook his head. “Our boy really impressed you, didn’t he? A regular Batman, right?”
“Yeah. I hope his wife knows how lucky she is to have him.”
“I’m sure she does. I’m not such a bad catch myself, you know? In a Robin sort of way?”
“You’re too old to be Robin.”
“And to look good in spandex. Still, when this is all over maybe we could have dinner together.”
Diane just laughed. Good thing Carver’s opinion of himself was too low for him to be hurt by that.
He shut up and drove the last few minutes to the Court Building in silence.
TWELVE
A rooftop across the street from the Court Building. A wiry guy in a black duster was setting up shop. Shop consisting of an Armalite AR-50 sniper rifle.
He looked down the street through the rifle scope. There was his target. His boss’ old squeeze. She was surrounded by a fat, balding guy in a cheap suit carrying a shotgun, and another dozen armed cops. They would be no defense against the.50 BMG bullets he’d be sending her way though. He’d pack up the rifle after that and leave the building on a bike before the cops would know what had hit her.
He concentrated on the target with his entire being. Concentration was what sniping was all about.
He’d been better off concentrating on his surroundings. He would have heard the guy sneaking up on him and prevented the arm from wrapping around his neck. He wouldn’t have been too surprised to stop the iron hands from snapping his neck.
THIRTEEN
Monaghan left his car flanked by cops. The press tried to snap good pictures or get good videos. Mostly they were prevented by the bodies of Kevlar-clad cops.
Diane spotted her ex-boyfriend. Carver saw her stiffen. He put a hand on her shoulder. He told her not to worry.
Monaghan grinned at her and made a pistol of his thumb and finger. He shot his virtual gun. Diane winced.
When his thumb lowered, imitating a gun’s hammer Monaghan’s head exploded.
Everyone panicked. People took cover. Cops started to look around frantically for the place the bullet came from.
Diane buried her face in her hands, crying. Carver wondered if it was shock or relief.
FOURTEEN
Dalmas left the sniper rifle with the assassin whose neck he’d snapped. His bet that Monaghan would try to pull something like that had been right. As an experienced sniper he had little doubt about where the sniper would set up shop. He’d also spotted the bike the assassin planned to use to escape.
Dalmas would be on the bike and speeding off before the cops would have figured out where the kill shot had come from.
The contingency plan had worked out okay. He hoped Diane would sleep tight now. Maybe he’d send her a card.
BIO:
Jochem Vandersteen is a Dutch writer, writing often in English. His special interests are crime novels and movies, rock music (he is a Rock reporter for a Dutch music site) and comic books. He is the author of the Noah Milano series, The Mike Dalmas series, and of a number of published short stories and novellas. He is the founder of The Hardboiled Collective and is editor of the blog SONS OF SPADE