‘You had me fooled, Mr Decker.’
‘That was the point,’ Decker said. ‘Sir.’
Abruptly Sweeney twisted and leaped back, rolling toward the pile of weapons he’d taken from Scarlett. Decker stumbled, going down on one knee, shock on his face – and a knife sticking out of his side. Handcuffs dangling from one wrist, Sweeney grabbed two of Scarlett’s guns – one in each hand – and began shooting
Stunned, Scarlett staggered backward, falling on her butt. Marcus heard a roar, then realized it had come from his own chest. He began firing, only vaguely aware that Deacon and Kate had lifted their weapons as well. It was mass pandemonium for a brief moment as bullets flew. And then, as quickly as the moment had begun, it was over. The silence that followed was heavy, the air thick with the smell of spent gunpowder.
Sweeney lay on his own driveway, broken, his body riddled with bullets, his eyes staring sightlessly up at the sky.
Just like Tala.
Finally, Marcus thought as he ran to where Scarlett lay on her stomach, arms stretched out in front of her, her weapon still clutched in a classic two-hand hold. She’d rolled into position, he realized, and had fired her share of the bullets into Sweeney. She looked up at him, gave him a hard nod, and his knees buckled with relief.
He grabbed her up into his arms, not caring what anyone else thought. Buried his face in her neck and shuddered out the breath he’d been holding. ‘Oh God. I thought he’d got you. I thought you were dead.’
‘I’m okay,’ she murmured. ‘His bullet hit the vest. Just knocked the wind out of me.’ She flinched when he hugged her harder. ‘Maybe bruised me up some.’
Immediately he loosened his hold, his body starting to tremble. Now that it was all over, he was shaking like a damn leaf. He let himself hold her gently for another long moment, then lifted his head to take stock of the situation.
Deacon was crouched next to Sweeney’s body, cuffing his lifeless wrists together before checking his pulse. Kate had slung her rifle over her back and was tending to Decker, who primarily looked annoyed as he pulled the knife out of his side.
‘I’m okay, Agent Coppola,’ he said with self-disgust. ‘I can’t believe the little fucker stuck me.’ He pushed Kate’s hands away, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. ‘I’m okay,’ he repeated. ‘I got hurt worse on the school playground.’ The big man slowly came to his feet. ‘There’s a first aid kit in the laundry room,’ he said. ‘I’ll plug this with some gauze.’
Marcus opened the backpack Isenberg had given them and pulled out four rolls of gauze. He threw three of them to Decker, keeping one to wrap the grazing wound Sweeney had put on Scarlett’s right wrist. ‘Is he dead?’ he asked as he wrapped Scarlett’s arm.
Deacon’s odd eyes were filled with warm understanding and cold finality. ‘Really most sincerely dead,’ he said.
Marcus found his lips twitching at the old movie quote from The Wizard of Oz. It was the boost he needed, and he lurched to his feet, helping Scarlett to hers. He walked over to Sweeney’s body, gratified to see that most of their shots had hit the man’s skull. The top part of his head was simply gone. Sweeney’s shirt was peppered with bullet holes, the fabric soaked with blood. But there was one area they’d missed in the frenzied shooting.
Marcus deliberately pointed his gun at Sweeney’s chest and pulled the trigger, shooting the man in his non-existent heart. ‘That was for Cal,’ he said quietly. ‘And Tala. And all the others.’ He shuddered when Scarlett put her arms around him.
‘Sshh. It’s over. It’s done,’ she whispered, rocking him.
It was then he realized he was crying. And so was she.
Cincinnati, Ohio
Wednesday 5 August, 11.55 P.M.
Decker was a stubborn fool, Kate thought as she followed the man into the big shed with its circus-tent ceiling. He’d been stabbed, for God’s sake, but acted like it was no more than a mosquito bite, insisting that the paramedics try to save Sweeney’s son, Sean, instead of treating him. The two paramedics brought up the rear, lugging their gear through the wooded property.
‘They’re in here,’ Decker said as he slid the door of the large shed open. ‘Sean, plus Stephanie Anders and Dave Burton. Burton will also need some attention. Sweeney cut the man’s ear off.’
‘Wonderful,’ Kate muttered.
‘The young woman has only minor abrasions and bruises,’ Decker went on. ‘She gave worse than she got, trust me.’
Kate stopped dead in her tracks when she stepped inside, staring at the industrial-sized chipper, the chute extending over a gaping hole in the ground. The air smelled foul and she had to fight to keep from gagging. She was only moderately successful.
‘Sorry about the smell,’ Decker murmured. ‘I was supposed to dispose of all the bodies this week, but I didn’t. Kept them as evidence. Chip and Marlene Anders and Demetrius are all buried in shallow graves here, under this roof. Hopefully the ME’s office will get all the evidence they need.’
He walked them to the back corner, where he’d erected a hasty partition out of large pieces of plywood. ‘I didn’t want Sweeney seeing them. He didn’t come out here often, but he’d threatened to put Sean through the shredder himself, so I figured he might come back here eventually.’ Decker pulled the partition down.
And froze. ‘Shit,’ he muttered, running to the chair that held the remains of Stephanie Anders. The girl’s throat had been slashed, and blood covered the ground around her.
‘That’s a bit more than minor abrasions,’ Kate said quietly.
Decker stood over another chair, this one empty and turned on its side. Next to it was an empty wheelbarrow, also on its side. Slashed ropes were strewn over the ground. ‘Burton is gone,’ he said flatly. ‘So is Sean.’
‘How? I thought you said Sean was almost dead?’
Decker’s lips thinned. ‘He looked it. He might have been. Either way, Burton’s gone.’ He picked up one of the slashed ropes. The edge was jagged. ‘Sean must have had a knife stashed. I didn’t search him. He was handcuffed. Dammit.’ He looked pissed with himself. ‘Either he or Burton cut their ropes. Whichever one of them did it, the pair of them are free.’
Cincinnati, Ohio
Thursday 6 August, 12.10 A.M.
‘Water.’ Diesel shoved a bottle in Scarlett’s hand and one in Marcus’s as they approached him at the front of the property where they’d left their vehicle. The paramedics had arrived and one team had already taken care of Gayle. The other team was with Agent Davenport and Kate. ‘Is Sweeney dead?’
‘Very much so,’ Marcus said. He and Scarlett drained the bottles in very thirsty gulps. ‘Damn, I needed that.’
Diesel was ready with more. ‘Refill your tear wells,’ he told Marcus, giving a pointed look to his eyes, red from crying.
‘Fuck off,’ Marcus said affectionately. He wasn’t ashamed of his tears. It had been cathartic to cry, especially once he’d plugged that final bullet in Sweeney’s heart.
Scarlett shook her head. ‘Where’s Gayle?’
‘The ambulance took her to County,’ Diesel said. ‘They’re monitoring her heart. I wanted to go with her, but she insisted I stay to take care of you two. Who’s Mr Surfer USA?’ he asked, pointing at Decker and Kate, who had just arrived from the back property and were talking to Deacon, their expressions dark and angry.
‘I think he’s the FBI’s undercover agent,’ Marcus said.
‘None of them look too happy at the moment,’ Diesel observed.
‘They don’t, do they?’ Scarlett murmured. ‘They went to fetch Sweeney’s son, who was injured. Since Sweeney’s dead, I think we were hoping Sean could provide details. But from the looks of things, I don’t think he made it.’
Diesel gave the Feds a wary look. ‘No offense, Scarlett, but there’s suddenly too much law enforcement around here.’