Judging by the number of vehicles on the turnout I’d expected more defenders than those I’d gone up against, but didn’t doubt that Rink had accounted for some of the others. I could only hope he’d reached a good position, now that I’d compromised mine.
‘You out there,’ a voice bellowed. ‘Drop your gun or — by God — I swear the old bitch will die.’
I recalled Sean Chaney’s bullfrog croak from the BART carriage.
‘Isn’t going to happen, Chaney,’ I called back. ‘Your best bet’s to hand her over — unharmed — and you’ll be given a chance. If I come in there I’ll be shooting. You understand that?’
‘Come in, I’ll kill you.’
‘I’m not interested in you. It’s that other bastard I want. You there, Markus?’
‘He’s with the old woman,’ Chaney shouted. ‘He’ll do her in a second. Do you hear me? Come inside and the Jap bitch dies.’
‘If that happens, I swear to you, Chaney, you’ll beg for death before I’m finished with you.’
‘Like I said: come in. I’m not about to be suckered like that time on the train.’
‘You’ve had all the warnings you’re getting. This time I won’t be going for a leg shot.’
‘You shouldn’t have last time,’ Chaney crowed.
He fired and bullets punched the wall. The timbers halted most, but some cut through the rotted wood or found chinks between the caulking. Good job I’d already flattened myself to the dirt floor. As chunks of wood jumped in the air above me, I rolled clockwise and placed myself belly down in the gap in the doorway. Chaney was a huge amorphous silhouette, darker than the darkness around him. From my prone position I fired.
I’d lied to him.
I did go for a leg shot.
Blood puffed from the matching hole I put through his previously injured thigh. It was a supreme insult, just to show the bastard what I thought of him. He roared at the ignominy, swinging his gun on me, but I’d already continued my roll, out of his sight. I came to my feet, pressing against the logs once more.
Chaney dragged himself further inside, cursing like mad.
There was another noise, a scuff above me. From a tree bole a figure detached itself and clambered up on to the roof.
I grinned.
‘Chaney,’ I called. ‘Are you ready to hand Yukiko over yet?’
‘Fuck you! The old woman’s going to die.’
‘Then there’s nothing more I can do to spare your life,’ I said.
From further back there came a crashing of shingles as Rink broke a way inside. Immediately I sprang for the door. Offering cover I dashed in, just as Rink dropped through a hole in the roof and landed behind Chaney. Rink had switched his gun for his KA-BAR, which glinted dully in his hand, casting a burnished flame in my buddy’s normally dark eyes. Chaney was caught wrong-footed, stumbling on his game leg, as he swung at the new threat, offering me his broad back.
Chaney fired. But his gun was empty, his bullets spent on the wall. He looked down at the useless weapon on hearing the dead man’s click.
I could easily have shot Chaney dead, but this was primarily Rink’s gig.
He had first dibs on Chaney for taking his mom.
He rammed the blade through Chaney’s open mouth with such force the tip of the blade jutted an inch from his bald pate.
Chaney fell backwards, landing flat on his back, dead.
Rink yanked the KA-BAR free with a sound not unlike Velcro torn apart. With a deft shake of the wrist he shed the blood from the blade, a move reminiscent of the samurai chiburi — or blood shake — manoeuvre as the warrior cleans his katana sword before returning it to its scabbard. He kept his knife firmly in hand.
Then he turned to face Markus Colby who’d crept up from a cellar behind him.
Markus also gripped a knife, but it was held to Yukiko’s throat.
Chapter 41
‘Put down your weapons,’ Markus said.
He was a big man, easily as tall and muscular as Rink. In comparison Yukiko was diminutive. She made the hole in a human-shaped doughnut, while he was the outer ring, and I was pretty certain that I could’ve shot Markus a dozen times without as much as nicking her. But I couldn’t take the chance. Unless my first shot killed him, the killer would ram his blade into her throat and that would be it.
Rink didn’t look at the man; his attention was on his mother, checking that she had not been harmed. Her hands were bound behind her back, and a noose lay round her neck. Out of sight behind her, Markus gripped the trailing rope. He had the strength to yank her off her feet and hang her in front of us.
‘I won’t tell you again.’ Markus pricked the skin of Yukiko’s throat, and a bead of blood slipped below her blouse collar. In the gloom it looked like a beetle had scuttled for cover under her clothing.
‘We’ll do it your way, Markus,’ Rink said.
He dropped his KA-BAR on the hard-packed dirt, kicked it away. Then he pulled out his gun and also tossed it away across the room. It clattered where it fell among some stacked furniture.
‘What’s the plan, Markus?’ I asked. ‘We throw down our weapons and you shoot us, and then you kill Yukiko anyway?’
‘Possibly,’ Markus said. ‘Maybe I’ll just walk out of here with her, use her for cover until I can get to a vehicle, and then release her. But that won’t happen unless you put down your fucking gun.’
There was little chance of him releasing Yukiko. In all likelihood he had a gun stuffed in his belt, concealed from us by Yukiko’s body. He’d wait until we were unarmed, then jab her in the throat, throwing her into our arms to stall us while he brought out his gun and shot us in the head. It was an untenable position we were in. No way he could expect me to give up my weapon.
Rink gave me a nod and I threw down the Glock.
Markus’s eyes narrowed marginally.
I just bet that he was expecting me to resist further, so he had an excuse to use the blade on Yukiko a little more.
‘Let my mother go,’ Rink said.
‘You’re not in a position to make demands,’ Markus told him.
‘We’ve done as you said and put down our weapons. Let my mother go,’ Rink repeated.
‘You didn’t do fully as I asked. You were meant to bring me the other two murderers. Where are Parnell and Faulks?’
‘Safe from you,’ I said.
Markus stared at me. His face was rigid. He shifted marginally, and I guess he was thinking of last time we met and how much it had hurt.
‘Who the fuck are you any way? What has any of this got to do with you?’
‘I’m Joe Hunter. I’m Rink’s brother.’
I didn’t expound. I didn’t need to tell him that Rink and I were as close as if we shared the same blood. Let the fucker wonder. All he needed to know was that I was prepared to fight tooth and nail to save my friend and his mother.
‘You think you’re a bad ass,’ he sneered.
‘I know what I am. I also know what you are. Coward.’
‘Fuck you,’ he said, not rising to the bait.
‘Let my mother go. I’ll bring you the old men in exchange for her.’ Rink had straightened, showing Markus his palms.