Dead Man's Hand (38 page)

He
took the steps one at a time, thankful the old, worn-down floorboards didn
’
t creak. When he reached the top and stuck his head up
over the last step,
two bullets
flew
past and smashed
the wall
.

He couldn
’
t risk a wild, blind shot that
might
kill Baxter.
Calvin ha
d to
evade him
until
that one
perfect
shot.

With a deep breath,
he l
aunched himself off the top step and into the next room. Three more bullets hit the wall beside him as he dove head first, arms extended to break his fall.

Calvin had counted e
ight shots fired by Baxter. Chances were he
had to reload
his Beretta
or at least pull a second weapon. That meant seconds to reach him.

Calvin
stayed along the floor, crawling the hallway. When he reached the end, he rose and
leaned
against the wall outside the room where the bullets had come from. He couldn
’
t hear anything, only his own heavy breathing.

He pivoted and extended his arm into the room. As he inched inside, he was too late to spot
Baxter
,
who
kick
ed
Calvin
’
s arm and jolt
ed
his weapon to the floor.

Before Calvin could react, Baxter ca
ught him flush on the jaw with hard metal
, dislodging the goggles. Calvin was
stunned for a moment
, but
he was
able to
shake that off
before re
ceiving another blow from
the bu
tt of Baxter
’
s pistol to
the bridge of his
nose
. He
ins
tinctively reached for his nose
as his eyes watered.

T
he taste of warm, metallic b
lood brought
him
back to his
football
days. Adrenaline kicked in—no thinking.
He heard a new clip snap into the gun
pointed at his head.

From the dar
k, he heard,
“
Goodbye, Calvin Watters.
”

But
Calvin swung his body. The bullet hit
his right shoulder
, where the sleeveless
bulletproof vest did not cover
,
and pain erupted
.
He rolled into Baxter,
dropping the
hit man
to the floor. Calvin gritted his teeth, got into a three-point st
anc
e and
exploded off his feet, barreling
into
Ba
xter
’
s midsection.

He
heard the gun hit the floor, followed by Baxter
’
s night g
oggles
.
Now both men were blind.
Feeling in the dark,
Calvin
landed a
solid punch to Baxter
’
s throat and t
he
two men wrestled.

Baxter went after Calvin
’
s bad knee with a swinging kick but missed.

Then the lights to the entire workshop came on.

For the first time they
looked at each other
and
both saw their
guns at the same time.
Both men dove for their weapon.

Calvin, half a second faster, aimed and fired. The bullet hit
with precision
where
he
had wanted it to
—
mid-upper thig
h
—
but
hit a major artery and exploded, blowing Baxter
’
s leg
off
at the femur bone
. Enormous clumps of thigh, blood and tissue hit the walls, ceiling and floor. Ba
xter fell to the floor, grabbing
at the
open wound and scream
ing
. But
he still attempted to crawl to his weapon.

Calvin rose to his feet
and
kicked the weapon away. Baxter stopped squirming
and
rolle
d onto his back, staring up into
Calvin
’
s
eyes.

Blood leaked from Baxter
’
s
cut lip
when he spoke.
“
Finish it!
”
He said, barely audible from
the blood and spit in his mouth
.

Baxter rose into a
one-knee
seated position, moving
toward
the weapon that hung at Calvin
’
s side. Baxter pressed his
head into the
mu
zzle of the gun
.

“
Hold the gun like a man!
”

Calvin
nudge
d the gun against Baxter
’
s tem
ple. He
struggled to stay conscious from the mind-num
bing pain. His eyes burned,
his
nose stung
and
his shoulder throbbed.

Then he heard a voice
.

Chapter 3
8

“
The bullet
was a clean in and out.
”

Dale was jolted awake by
a soft hand shaking his shoulder.
He had fallen asleep in an awkward position, scrunched up, legs hanging over the arm of an open-armed, fully upholstered hospital chair bolted to the floor.
A
nurse
st
ood
over h
im, holding a clipboard to sign. The Las Vegas cops were picking up
Watters
’
medical expenses
—somehow
.
There would have to be some accounting magic for that one.

“
No problems?
”

“
Nope.
”

Dale
got
up and wiped sleep from his eyes
. He took the pen and signed on the dotted line.

“
Is he awake?
”

“
Room 314.
”

He
head
ed down the hall.
He
paused o
utside room 314 and
stretched
,
h
is back muscles
were
in a tight ball. He
opened his
cell phone
.

“
Jimmy, Watters is awake.
”

“
Did you talk to him?
”

“
Not yet, I
’
m just going in now.
”

“
I
’
ve been thinking about this all night. Do you think we did the right thing?
”

“
I don
’
t know
. I understood Watters
’
logic. He got us Baxter.
We would
have caught him sooner or later, but Watters took a lot of chances, even if he had his own interests in mind.
”

“
Okay
. But he
’
s still a leg
breaker too, some
body who
has
got to enjoy that work. Don
’
t forget that,
”
said Jimmy.

“
Where are you now?
”

“
I
’
m just leaving the house. Tina cooked me Sunday breakfast.
”

“
I
’
ll meet you back at the office
.
”

“
What about Rachel?
”

“
Tell her Watters is
okay. But I think we should keep her where she is. There
’
s no telling what the pushback might be now that we have Baxter in custody. Whoever hired him could counterattack. She
’
s safe where she is.
”

Dale hung up
.

He stood outside
and looked
through the
small glass-paned section of the door
at Watters lying in the hospital bed. He saw the face of a hero and was all the more grateful that Watters had survived. He hoped that Watters could see some of Dale
’
s admiration
,
because saying directly what he thought and felt would only embarrass the man.

He knew
,
from what Watters had told him
,
that he was an expert marksman, but he also knew that Watters had never shot at anything but paper targets.

In case someone was looking for Baxter, Dale used false names and told the medical staff at the ER to keep Watters
’
and Baxter
’
s admissions quiet.

A
fter a light rap on t
he door,
he
stepped inside. The fetid smell
of sanitizer and unwashed bed
sheets greeted Dale. Watters
’
head had been propped up on two pillows, b
ut his eyes weren
’
t all the way
open
.

“
Detective Dayton, I recognize you from t
he Vegas
website.
”

“
Calvin Watters.
”
Dale smiled.
“
The man with the plan.
”

They shook hands.

“
How long have I been out?
”

“
Just the night.
”
Dale pulled a chair close to the bed.
“
How do you feel?
”

“
Like I got hit by a bus. How
’
s Rachel?
”

“
She
’
s in a safe
house, like we agreed. When you feel up to it, I
’
ll bring her in, but I don
’
t think
the timing is right,
yet.
”

Watters
nodded.

“
You scared the h
ell out of us, Calvin. When we heard the gunshots, we took off in a sprint. I
’
m glad you had given us th
e
layout of the
workshop
so I knew where to find the generator, but when you weren
’
t in the computer room
,
I thought the worst. When we found you upstairs, it looked like W
orld
W
ar
III.
We were lucky Baxter didn
’
t die, even with the tourniquet I put on.
Thank God we had the paramedics on standby.
”

“
Thanks for staying by my side. You weren
’
t the only one scared.
”

“
You
’
re in better shape
than Baxter.
”

“
How is he?
”

“
He
’
s alive.
I don
’
t suppose there
’
s too much work for a one-legged assassin.
”

Watters grimaced.
“
Sorry,
I wanted him in better shape to stand trial.
”

“
Don
’
t be sorry. You did what you had to do.
”
After a few minutes of awkward silence,
he
asked.
“
So why
’
d you do it? Why
’
d you leave the computer room? That wasn
’
t part of the plan.
”

Watters
tried to sit up.
Dale helped him into a partial seated position.

“
I
had to have him. I had to win
. That
’
s the truth.
”

“
So how did you
do that?
”

Watters smiled.
“
I know it
’
s corny. But I tackled that motherfucker like I was back playing ball.
”

“
You really pulled my ass out of the fire, Calvin.
”

Watters
’
smile broadened.
“
No offense, but
you know I did it to save myself too. I had to save Rachel
and
get information about the murders.
”

A nurse entered
. They were going to prep Watters
for tests on any hidden damage.

When Watters
was done, Da
le returned to the room where the
doct
or was
addressing the patient
.
“
I
’
ve seen worse
—
a slight concussion, a couple of head wounds, a cut above your right eye and on your left cheekbone. Your eye will swell up some.
We didn
’
t stitch up the bullet wound for
fear of infection
.
The
bullet had a clean exit. We
’
ll change the bandages every couple of hours to make sure it
’
s clean and dry.
Y
our shoulder will require some therapy, but you should regain
a hundred
percent
mobility.
The nurse will be in with your painkillers.
”

As if on cu
e, the
door opened and a
short
, pretty
nurse walked in holding a tiny white envelope.

She
slipped in between the bed and doctor,
shook out three pills and set them on the bedside table.
“
This is Naproxen,
375
mg per pill. Take one every 4-6 hours and don
’
t take more than five a day.
”

Watters snorted
and smiled at the doctor
.
“
Doc, you
’
re gonna have to do better than that. I
’
ve been on a steady dose of painkillers for the last three years, from Tylenol to morphine. With all my n
ew injuries
and
my tolerance for
medication
over the years, I
’
m gonna need some serious stuff.
”

The doctor
pulled
Dale
to the side
and whispered.
“
Is this patient narcotic dependant? Should I be concerned that Mr. Watters will go into narcotic withdrawal after a gunshot? Because that will greatly influence my prescription.
”

Dale nodded.

“
I
’
ll
prescribe something stronger.
”
The surgeon
smirked and
left the room.

The nurse took a couple of quick tests and said,
“
I
’
ll be back with your new medication.
”

When
the door closed, Dale
went over to the bed and grinned
.
“
You keep talking like that and they
’
ll drug you up like a racehorse.
”
He handed Watters a cup of water and
asked,
“
S
o how did you know Baxter would use the back entrance?
”

Watters
took a drink and
smiled.
“
I made the lock difficult to break, so Baxter would think that everything was real, but I didn
’
t make it impenetrable like the other entrances. That was the only door Baxter
could
use.
”

“
You have a minute, Dayton?
”

Dale turned to
see
his S
ergeant
. The sergeant shook Watters
’
hand.

“
What do we know about Baxter?
”
Watters
asked.

“
Last night was busy
.
We haven
’
t grilled him yet,
”
Dale said.

The sergeant grabbed Dale by the sleeve
.
“
Can
I have a word with you, Dayton?
”
he asked
and pulled
him
into the hallway.

The sergeant was talking before the door had even closed behind them.
“
You almost fucked this one u
p
a
nd don
’
t forget that Watters is a civilian. Shoul
d we be divulging information about
Baxter?
”