Triple shit.
“I was,” says Johnson, after a moment.
I close my eyes and look away down at the ground.
Why the hell did he have to open his mouth?
That stupid…
I sigh.
I’m getting angry, but not at him. Not really. I’m angry at myself because I’ve allowed myself to be put in this position — where I’m completely helpless and can’t do anything to stop what’s happening.
I hate it.
Without a word, Pellaggio raises his rifle and opens fire, riddling Johnson with bullets. He aims low and raises the gun as he fires; the sickening, dull squelch as the bullets pound into Johnson’s body is muted by the staccato roar of the Carbine. He’s hit in his thighs, his stomach, his chest, and eventually, his face. His whole body spasms and jerks around in a crazy dance. His arms flail up and down as his body flies backward from the impact and smashes into our car. He bounces off the side and lands on the road, rolling and finishing face down; his features contorted from the agony he endured in his final breath and his eyes wide in a vacant gaze.
“No!” screams Chambers. I quickly put my arms around her to stop her doing anything stupid like running at Pellaggio. That was my instinct too, but I know better than to let any emotions cloud my judgment in a moment like this.
“Now,” said Pellaggio, looking at Chambers and myself in turn, as he rests the Carbine over his shoulder and smiles. “To business.”
16
I let go of Chambers and we stand side by side facing Pellaggio and his eight hired guns.
There’s a cool breeze coming off the Bay, whirling the lingering smell of gunpowder around us from the Carbine. The sun is high and there’s very little cloud in the sky. I glance over at Johnson’s body, slowing drowning in a pool of blood on the road.
The area around us is strangely deserted. I assume authorities are on their way in force. I can hear the faint sound of sirens in the distance, but the traffic’s managed to stop all on its own; people and cars are giving the area a wide berth.
Pellaggio is standing about fifteen feet away. He’s aiming his gun loosely from his hip in our general direction. He’s looking at me quietly, with a bemused expression on this face.
My eyes narrow as my mind ticks over, visualizing all the ways I could end his twisted little life. And believe me — I am going to end his life. Maybe not right now, but I will. He’s earned the privilege of dying by my hand.
I look past him at his back up. No chance of avoiding getting shot if I make a move. I’ll have to bide my time…
I feel Chambers reach and grab my hand, squeezing tightly. She’s an exceptional FBI agent from what I’ve seen, and a very smart and capable woman. But right now, I can see she’s absolutely terrified — her hand is trembling in mine, and she’s staring vacantly at the ground. Which I can understand. Nothing can prepare you for things like this — seeing someone you know murdered in cold blood in front of you… knowing your life is in danger and being helpless to do anything about it…
“You’re going to come with us,” says Pellaggio. “We’re going to go somewhere a little more private so you can have a front row seat for the grand finale.”
I know that chopper’s on its way… I just have to buy a few more minutes.
“Tell me, Danny Boy, after Heaven’s Valley, did you ever suffer from that — what’s it called? — survivor’s guilt thing?” I ask.
His expression darkens and his jaw muscles clench, but he remains silent.
“You know, because you lay there bleeding, looking on as your entire family was slaughtered right in front of you… You lay there and did nothing as I put a bullet between your old man’s eyes. Surely you feel bad about that?”
In the blink of an eye, he rushes toward me, raising his gun behind him and thrusting it forward as he approaches, slamming the butt hard into my stomach and knocking the wind out of me. I have no choice but to drop to one knee and double over.
I touched a nerve there, I think.
I laugh out loud, which is harder than it should be.
“My only regret is not going back to finish you off in the hospital when I heard you’d survived,” I continue, looking him right in the eye. He raises the gun once more, but refrains from smashing it into my face. Instead, he smiles and walks back to where he was originally standing.
“I’m smarter than you are, Adrian,” he says, tapping his temple with his left index finger. “You and your famous mouth are trying to taunt me, and it won’t work. I’ve spent a year planning this, and I’m too close to the end to let you ruin things now.”
In the sky, behind him and his crew, I see the small outline of a helicopter appear.
Bingo.
“So, tell me, what is your endgame here?” I ask, desperate to delay him a few extra seconds. “If all this wasn’t for me, what was it for?”
“Oh, you’ll see soon enough,” he says, smiling. I see him catch my gaze as I glance at the chopper again.
Shit.
He turns and looks up, seeing it for himself. He looks back at me and smiles.
“Ah, you think your rescue is coming, don’t you?” he says.
He laughs, turns, and walks over to one of the two vans that just arrived full of goons. He disappears into the back for a moment, and then re-appears holding an RPG-7 launcher.
Something else off his shopping list…
“Oh my God,” says Chambers, almost in a whisper of disbelief as she re-focuses on the situation.
“Danny!” I shout, unable to stop myself from panicking. “Leave them alone, they’re innocent. Let us call them off at least, then we’ll come along with no more fuss, you have my word.”
He laughs again, prompting his men to laugh with him.
“Your word, eh?” he says. “Well, I appreciate that, and your sentiment is touching. However, you’ll be coming with us anyway, so your proposal is meaningless.”
He walks into the middle of the bridge and lifts the launcher up onto his shoulder. The weapon is roughly three feet long and weighs around fifteen pounds. It fires a single high explosive, anti-tank warhead, known as a HEAT missile. It’s good for a thousand yards before it self-detonates. It’ll destroy that chopper easily.
“Danny, don’t do it!” I yell.
Next to me, Chambers is squeezing my hand so tightly I’m worried she’ll break it. Her fear is slowly giving way to anger. I know how she feels, but we can’t do anything. As things stand, I’m sure Pellaggio wants us alive, at least until he’s executed his plan, so I think it’s unlikely he’ll kill us just yet, but then, I don’t doubt that he would if I push him too far. Plus, he has eight of his men surrounding us…
We’ve got no choice but to stand and watch.
The chopper approaches and Pellaggio takes aim. It’s still about a mile out, but closing fast. It’ll be in range of that missile any moment.
“Please, don’t!” pleads Chambers, but her words are wasted breath.
She instinctively steps forward, but I hold her hand firmly, stopping her as all eight guns turn and take aim at us.
“Grace, don’t,” I say quietly. “I hate this too, but there’s nothing we can do unless you wanna die here on this bridge.”
She looks at me with tears in her eyes. “How can you be okay with this?” she says.
“I’m not, goddammit!” I hiss through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to watch innocent people die any more than you do, but we die right here, right now if we try to stop him, and whatever’s happening is bigger than us, and that chopper.”
“So this is what you do, is it? Your life, your job — it’s made you into a monster, Adrian, whether you admit it or not. You disgust me!”