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Authors: Matt Hilton

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Slash and Burn (19 page)

BOOK: Slash and Burn
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‘You want me to call in AWAC support?’

Back when we’d been in the forces we’d had high-altitude spy planes and satellite technology to guide us in to targets.

‘A compass would have been ample.’

‘You can’t be far off now,’ Rink said. ‘Keep going, you’ll see it soon.’

Way ahead of me I noted a blur on the horizon. It looked like the tops of trees. Sometimes people fancified gateways by planting trees and shrubbery.

‘Wait there, Rink, I’m going on ahead. If I don’t find the entrance I’ll backtrack.’

Harvey’s voice rumbled in the background.

‘Damn,’ Rink responded. Then to me, ‘Heads up, Hunter. There’s a chopper headed your way. You’d better get moving. Two parked cars are going to look suspicious.’

‘Is it paying you any attention?’

‘Yeah. Coming in low. Checking us out.’

Rink went silent. I guessed he’d put down the phone.

I started the Saturn. Then I spun it in the road and began driving back in the opposite direction. It would be less suspicious if I was heading away from the ranch when the chopper came my way.

I could see it off in the distance, a black speck hanging above the road. From this distance I couldn’t identify its type. I continued towards it, travelling at a steady fifty miles per hour. No urgency, just someone passing through. I wanted to drive much faster. Any second I expected the flash of a rifle.

But it didn’t come.

The chopper banked, started skimming the land towards me.

Rink came back on the phone.

‘They checked us out good, Hunter. Two guys. They weren’t looking for us, but they might pay you a little more interest. We’ll start heading your way. Just in case.’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘But travel steady. There’s no need to worry, yet.’

Ringing off, I pulled my SIG out of my waistband and placed it on the seat next to me. Then I reached across to the passenger side for a baseball cap I’d brought with me which I pulled down on my head. A more obvious disguise would probably warrant further inspection. Supposing that the men in the chopper were employees of Huffman, they would be going by physical descriptions given by Judge Wallace, Sheriff Aitken or Larry Bolan. From up in the cockpit of the chopper they’d only get a cursory look at my face. If I played things cool, it should be all right.

Keeping the pressure on the gas pedal at midway, I continued travelling towards them. The chopper crossed the distance much faster. It was identifiable to me now: a Bell Jet Ranger, grey with red flashes on its tail. There was nothing that indicated it belonged to Huffman, discounting the two men inside, who had the stern faces associated with bad men. They scrutinised me with an unhealthy amount of interest.

Playing my part, I smiled at them, waved, kept on going. Watching them in my mirrors, I saw the chopper bank left and swing round after me, then zoom up on my left. The man in the co-pilot seat stared at me. I feigned confusion. The man gestured at me, telling me to take the hat off, so I complied, showing him my fresh buzz cut. Then I frowned, opened my mouth. ‘What?’

The guy seemed happy enough with that. He shook his head at me, turned to the pilot, and the chopper flew on ahead. Dust swirled in my vision, then the chopper rose up in the air and I was under it and away.

Searching for it in my mirrors, I saw it heading east, towards the copse of trees I’d noticed earlier. I guessed I’d found Huffman’s hiding place.

Looking ahead, I could see Rink and Harvey approaching in their Ford Windstar mini-van.

We slowed and came to a halt so we could speak through our windows.

‘I take it that Huffman’s expecting you,’ Rink said.

‘Looks that way,’ I said. ‘But we’ve got a problem now. If I turn back that way, the men in the chopper might get suspicious. They might not be as easily put off next time.’

‘So how do you want to play things? Do you want to head towards Pilot Point? We’ll go on and scope out the place.’

‘No, I think we’ve done enough for now. We’ll fall back to Pilot Point. Come back again tonight.’

‘They’ve seen us as well,’ Harvey said. ‘Maybe we should continue this way, loop round and come in from the north. We’ll see you back at the lake house.’

Harvey’s suggestion made sense. Maybe the chopper would be lying in wait ahead, watching for them. If they didn’t show up in the next few minutes, the men would probably come looking for them again. Maybe this time there’d be a face to face meeting. The men from the chopper would probably end up dead. But I didn’t want Rink and Harvey thrown into the mix yet. I wanted to keep them in reserve for when I went in to take Kate back.

‘Easy as it goes, guys,’ I said. ‘Avoid contact if you can.’

Rink winked and gave me his shit-eating grin.

Harvey pulled away and I watched them go. Then I started my car and drove towards the lakeside cabin we’d set up as our base.

I wasn’t too disappointed. This trip had always been a simple matter of reconnaissance. And I’d seen enough for now. The presence of the chopper meant that Huffman was home and waiting for me to arrive.

‘See you later, Quicksilver,’ I said.

Driving a little faster than before, I followed the same long road back to Pilot Point. To pass the time, I thought about Kate. I pictured her walking along the sand as she approached me that first time, her sandals bumping her hip with each step of her long legs. I thought of her drinking Corona straight from the bottle and how a drip had run down her chin and into the hollow of her throat. The bead of liquid had shivered in time with her pulse. As early as then I was attracted to her.

When Kate kissed me at the motel at Little Fork I’d played it cool. I kidded myself that I was being professional. I couldn’t afford to be distracted. Really I was feeling a little guilty. Eighteen years to the day, Diane had kissed me in a similar way. We were standing in front of the vicar and had just said our vows. Till death do us part, we’d sworn. I suppose that in my heart there’d always be a place for my ex-wife, but Rink was right, I didn’t have to be a monk all my life.

My thoughts drifted to my conversation with Rink when I’d phoned him after dumping Larry Bolan’s truck that first time.

He had asked me if I had a thing for Kate. I’d denied it and Rink had admonished me. He knew exactly what was going through my head.

‘I can’t let things distract me, Rink,’ I’d argued. ‘I start paying more attention to her pretty face, I miss the gun pointing at her head.’

If I’d heeded those words, maybe I wouldn’t have missed the Land Rover speeding across the field on my right now.

The first I knew of its presence was when a bullet shattered my window and buried itself in the instrument panel in front of me.

Immediately I went into defensive mode. I pressed the gas pedal to the floor and the car shot forwards. It made it all the way up to eighty miles per hour, but that was it. I’d picked the nondescript car for its ability to blend, not for speed. It wasn’t known as the
gas saver
for nothing.

Behind me, the Land Rover bounced over the verge and on to the road behind me. Looking in the rear-view, I could make out two men inside it. One of them was intent on driving, while the other hung out of the passenger window aiming a rifle.

Apparently my disguise hadn’t worked as well as I’d thought.

Attesting to that fact was the grey and red chopper racing in from the right. The passenger in the chopper had an automatic rifle as well.

Superior machinery, superior numbers and superior weapons. How the hell do I get out of this fix?

Chapter 28

Tito was true to his word, but Larry Bolan wondered how long that would last. When Larry came out of the back room and through the storage area into the dimly lit bar, Tito’s four friends had returned to their seats around the table. They were talking among themselves. As Larry made his way across the room, passing the raised stage, the man he’d stiff-armed was scowling, but the others only watched him with mild distraction. He nodded at them and they all nodded back. The scowling man made it look like he was trying to regain face with his buddies, his nod accompanied by a curled lip.

Larry laughed then turned away. He could hear the others laughing, and it wasn’t at him.

Boys will be boys.

Tito was walking behind Larry. It was as if he wanted to see the big man off the premises. He made it look like he was happy with the fifteen hundred dollars, but maybe he hadn’t quite taken Larry’s joke at face value, which was wise, because Larry hadn’t been joking.

Larry caught Tito’s reflection in a chrome surround on the doorway. Tito was looking back at his friends and there was a lot of gesturing going on.

Larry felt for the Desert Eagle, but then let it go.

Tito stepped past Larry, pushing the double doors open with the flats of his hands. The doors banged, startling the two minders who were lounging outside. Both men came to attention, swinging into battle readiness. Then they saw who was coming out and they faltered.

Tito jerked his head at them.

‘Chill out, guys,’ he told them. ‘My friend’s leaving.’

Larry watched the men’s faces. He saw a paleness creep into one of their throats, a slight widening of the eyes of the other. They were signs of apprehension, and not because they weren’t going to be doing their duty. Tito’s words were some sort of prearranged signal. Larry heard faint footsteps from inside. Tito came to a standstill, and Larry went on by him. Tito tapped Larry’s elbow and Larry glanced back. Tito stuck out a hand. ‘It was a pleasure doing business with you.’

The way they were standing, Larry would have to turn his back on the two minders to take Tito’s hand. But he was OK with that.

‘Yeah,’ Larry agreed, taking the hand.

He’d given up his back, but the disadvantage was negated by the fact that he could now see the four men approaching from inside the bar.

Larry smiled down at Tito.

He heard the shift of feet behind him.

‘You made some good money back there, Tito. You should’ve left things at that.’

Then he hauled Tito by the hand towards him. He pivoted, whipping Tito around and off his feet and directly into the two minders. Tito crashed into them, stalling them, and Larry threw a right cross over the top of him, crunching his fist into the face of the minder on the left. Larry felt the power in his arm as it transferred to the man’s jaw. It was like an explosion of kinetic force that compressed the man’s jaw up into his skull. If that man wasn’t dead, he was going to be taking his meals through a tube for a long time. He dropped straight down, his upper body folding over the top of Tito and taking them both to the floor.

The second minder stumbled, his legs entangled among those of his friends. Larry reached for him, grabbing the man by his shirt, and tugged him free of the mêlée of limbs. The man was above average size, but in Larry’s hands he was a child. Larry hauled him straight up and off his feet, pivoted again and threw him against the wall next to the open doors. Larry rammed his knee between the minder’s legs, even as he reached with one hand and pushed the nearest door closed. From inside came shouts of dismay, and suddenly the other four were charging forwards. Larry dragged the minder with him, placing the man between him and Tito’s four friends. Two of them had handguns, the other two had knives, but none of them could use them. Larry slammed the other door in their faces.

The minder was winded from his manhandling, but not finished. Foolishly, in Larry’s estimation, he threw a punch at Larry’s jaw. Larry dipped and the man’s fist hit the side of his head high up near the crown. The man probably broke his fist, but Larry didn’t wait to find out. He slammed the man’s head repeatedly against the closed door, the sound echoing the frantic banging coming from the other side. Blood had spattered all over the wood by the time Larry allowed the man to slip to the floor.

There was a hasp and padlock on the door. They were probably used at night when the front doors were open to the public. Larry threw the hasp and clicked the padlock in place.

Then he turned to Tito.

He’d finally fought free from under his unconscious friend. But he’d only made it up to his knees by the time Larry leaned in and grabbed him round the throat with one big hand.

Tito’s face showed that he was terrified by what had just gone down. But he was supposed to be the hard-ass around here. ‘Do you know who you are fucking with?’ he demanded.

‘The hooker was right getting you that present,’ Larry grinned at him. ‘But she got the words wrong. It should have said Tito
is
a mug.’

Tito tried tugging at Larry’s wrist, but he’d have been as well trying to tear a wolf’s jaws from his throat. Then he went for the gun tucked in his trousers. Larry grabbed the wrist of Tito’s gun hand and dragged the arm to his side. He was holding Tito in the exact same fashion as he’d held Joe Hunter yesterday. He’d made a mistake that time, and Trent had died. There’d be no mistakes now.

Twisting the gun hand, he heard the bones in Tito’s forearm grinding together. The man began to scream through clamped jaws. Agony was in his face. Larry twisted even further and the bones began cracking, making sounds as if the man’s arm was going through a wringer. The gun dropped from his deadened fingers. At the same time Larry squeezed his other fingers together. Cartilage popped. Blood flecked Tito’s lips with each harsh gasp.

BOOK: Slash and Burn
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