Denouement (20 page)

The sound of a knock interrupted them. Amy pulled back from kissing him and rolled her eyes. “It’s probably whoever was calling. Stay quiet. They’ll go away,” she said and went back to kissing him.

The knocking continued.

“Ugh! Let me just go tell them we’re closed,” Amy said.

She stood and picked up each article of her clothing scattered across the floor. She quickly dressed and walked through the open connecting door to the office. She came back a few seconds later. “Must have already left,” she said. “I opened the door and didn’t see anyone. Do you want to just go now? Do you need to shower or anything? You could probably just shower at my place.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Ray said. He stood and put on his pants.

Amy leaned against the wall next to the room’s front window, putting on her shoes. She turned her head, reached over, and moved the curtains to look through the blinds. She stared out the window. “What the hell? As soon as I want to leave, people show up. I mean, we don’t have anyone for days, and all of the sudden there’s two cars at once?” Amy continued staring out the window. She slipped her fingers between the blinds and spread them further. “Weird. Looks like Army guys or something,” she said. “What the hell! There’s a guy stabbing the tires on your car.”

Ray took two fast lunging steps toward the window. He shoved the girl to the side.

“Geez!” she said.

Ray looked out the blinds and spotted men wearing tactical gear taking positions in the lot—one with a large knife, retreated from the side of the Toyota Ray had driven. His car was parked in by a van. He recognized another guy over the roof of a black sedan.

“Kane,” Ray said.

“What’s Kane? Do you know these guys or something?” Amy asked.

Ray reached out, grabbed Amy by the arm, and yanked her toward him.

“Ouch! What the hell, Mark?”

“My name isn’t Mark, bitch. Now shut the hell up!” Ray said. He dragged her to the side of the bed and pulled a TEC-9 pistol from one of the duffel bags filled with guns.

“What the hell is going on? What are you doing?” She tried pulling free from Ray’s grasp—she couldn’t break his hold.

“Shut up, bitch!” Ray yelled.

He pulled her back to the front window, muscled her in front of him, and placed his left arm around her neck. They both faced the window, looking out.

“Move the curtains and pull up the blinds,” Ray said.

Amy obeyed.

Ray placed the barrel of the gun at her temple. Then he locked eyes with Kane staring at him just thirty feet away.

The curtains spread, and the window blinds flew up. In only a fraction of a second, I realized I was looking at Ray holding a brunette woman as a shield in front of himself. He had a pistol pressed to her head—the gun was unmistakable, a TEC-9. I made eye contact with him and had no doubt he knew what was going down.

“Shit, he has a hostage,” Faust said.

“He isn’t going to give her up,” I said.

“What are we doing, boss? Are we going in there or what?” Knox asked.

Faust didn’t respond.

The blinds dropped and spun closed. We no longer had any kind of visual into the room.

“Can this guy be talked out?” one of Faust’s men asked.

Faust looked at me.

“Zero chance,” I said.

The door of the motel room flew open. Ray was holding the woman in the same fashion as he had in the window. However, the gun wasn’t pointed at her that time. It was pointed out at us, specifically at me. I dropped down immediately. Ray began firing. The sound of automatic gunfire and the bullets ripping into Faust’s car filled the air. The windows shattered and cascaded down on me. Safety glass rolled off my shoulders. The spray of bullets continued for another second or two, finishing into the van. The gunfire stopped. I heard the motel room door slam shut.

“We good?” Faust shouted.

“Yeah!” I yelled.

Faust motioned me toward the van that he and his four men had taken cover behind. The windows of the van were splintered but remained. The windshield looked the same.

“Down and quick,” Faust said.

I went and pulled up at their sides. “Everyone okay?”

“The van took it all,” Knox said. “He won’t be able to punch through the armor.”

“Well, I ain’t sitting out here and getting shot at, either way,” one of the other men said.

“We need eyes in there,” Faust said.

“We brought firepower, no surveillance equipment,” Knox said. “Let me put a grouping through the top frame of the window. Maybe it will bring the blinds down or at least get us a little bit of a visual inside. The shots will be high enough that the girl inside won’t be in danger of getting hit.”

Faust said nothing. He appeared to be in thought.

“It might be our only option,” I said

“The girl?” Faust asked. “What if he just decides to kill her?”

“He can’t kill her. She’s his only leverage,” I said. “If he does, there is nothing stopping us from putting him down.”

Faust looked at Knox. “Do it.”

Knox scooted himself to the nose of the van. He took aim and fired eight or nine times. The motel window shattered and exploded into the room. The woman screamed. The left side of the blinds broke free and hung down, but the right side remained attached. Knox’s gunfire created a triangular open section that let us see in, but I saw nothing more than a bed. Then Ray appeared with the woman held before him. She screamed for help and tried to pull from Ray’s grasp. Ray was holding some kind of assault rifle. He stuck the gun’s barrel through the opening in the blinds. I ducked back for cover behind the van as Ray opened fire. Bullets slammed into the opposite side of the van. Feeling something hit my shin, I looked down and saw a quarter-sized chunk of concrete. As I stared at it, trying to figure out how I’d just been hit with it, one of Faust’s guys dropped, clutching his leg. I heard the two tires on the far side of the van blow out. More concrete chunks flew from beneath the van. I grabbed Faust’s guy by the shoulder and pulled him inside the van before he took another bullet.

The gunfire coming from Ray stopped.

Faust stepped inside the van. “Where are you hit, Rose?”

The man grimaced and held his knee. Blood came from between his fingers. “I’ve had worse. I’m not walking right for a bit, though.”

“A bullet bounced underneath the van,” I said.

“Get something around your leg,” Faust said.

Rose pulled his belt from his pants and cinched it around his own leg.

Faust stuck his head out from the side door. “Can anyone see the shooter?” he asked.

Knox came to the open door. “Yeah, he just left the window.”

“Was he still using the woman as a shield?” Faust asked.

“Yeah,” Knox said. “I can probably get a shot when he comes back. He’s probably reloading.”

“Negative. Not while he has that woman,” Faust said.

I stared down at the agent named Rose. Though the belt looked tight, the wound was still pumping blood. I looked at Faust. “We have to get him out of here.”

Faust looked at his agent. Rose shook his head.

“Knox, on my call, give me some cover fire over the hood. Aim high,” Faust said.

“Got it.”

Faust looked at me. “Watch my back. I’m going to get him to the deputy on the street.”

“It’s not that bad,” Rose said.

“You’re losing too much blood. I’m not letting you sit here and die on me.” Faust took Rose under the armpits and pulled him from inside of the van. He lifted Rose to his feet.

Rose balanced on one leg and winced. He put one arm over Faust’s shoulder.

I stepped out and took a spot at the back corner of the van with one of Faust’s other agents. We both had eyes locked on the motel. I kept my attention and aim on the window of the room.

“Now, Knox!” Faust called.

Faust’s agent fired until the magazine in his gun was empty. Bits and pieces of the motel roof line above Azarov’s room splintered and flew.

Faust passed me, dragging Rose toward the street.

My eyes stayed on the room. I didn’t see any movement.

Faust returned to my side a moment later. We went back into the van. “The deputy is getting him help,” Faust said.

“Good. Who else do you have at your disposal? We’re going to end up needing SWAT, a negotiator, or something. He’s just going to keep shooting.”

“He’ll run out of ammo sooner or later. I mean, how much can he have in there?” Faust said.

Erik Ekel entered my thoughts. “He may have just gotten a delivery. I don’t know, but he’s obviously armed well enough, using a human shield, and showing no signs of coming out.”

“It will be at least an hour, maybe two, until I can get a full team in here,” Faust said.

“We can get a SWAT unit from Hernando County,” I said.

“Not yet,” Faust said.

“Why not yet?” I asked.

“I think I have a way to put an end to this bullshit.” Faust looked up the street through the open side door.

I tried to find what he was looking at but came up blank.

“If I send Knox up the street with a rifle, do you think you can get Azarov back to the window so we can get a shot?”

“I’m betting all it takes is my voice, and he’ll be at the window shooting. What about the woman?” I asked.

“Hold on,” Faust said. “Knox,” he called.

Knox came to the doorway.

“Knox, do you want to try it?”

“As in
it
?” Knox asked.

“Yeah,” Faust said.

“Okay.”

“We’ll try to get him to the window. That looks to be your only spot.” Faust pointed past him.

I looked to where he was pointing but still didn’t know what he was pointing at.

“It has to be clean,” Faust said. “What’s your confidence level from there?”

“It’s not really my confidence level I’d be concerned about. What’s yours in the technology?” Knox asked.

“How many rounds at that distance have you put through it?” Faust asked.

“Countless,” Knox said.

“On target?”

“I’d say ninety-five percent within a six-inch grouping,” Knox said.

“Well, make sure it’s in the ninety-five percent and inside the six-inch window.”

“Are we looking for a kill shot?” he asked.

“Whatever shot that you have that’s clean. Radio me with the details when you get there,” Faust said.

“Got it,” Knox said. He stepped into the van, took a long rifle from the shelf, and draped it over his shoulder. The scope looked odd. He jumped out and jogged toward the street.

“Where is he going?” I asked.

Faust pointed. “Billboard.”

I looked, and in the distance I saw the billboard advertising the restaurant I’d passed earlier in the car. The sign had to be a half mile away. “You’re serious? With a hostage?”

Faust nodded.

“And you trust him with that kind of shot?” I asked.

“I do, and I trust the technology.”

“Technology?” I asked.

“Precision-guided firearm,” Faust said.

I didn’t respond. I knew what it was. I’d seen a version of the weapon at a gun show months past. The scope was basically a computer that automatically corrected for long-range shots. The company at the gun show had videos playing of people hitting moving targets at a mile’s distance. While it was in the hands of the government, I was fine with it existing; however, the technology being available to the public, even at extremely high prices, was troubling.

“Rock, are you seeing any movement in the room?” Faust called.

Faust’s remaining two men had split up. One had taken cover behind the Charger Faust had driven. The other, Rock, came to the door from the rear of the van.

“Nothing since Knox fired on the building,” Rock said.

“What the hell is he doing in there?” Faust asked.

Amy flailed and screamed. Ray unloaded the AK-47’s magazine through the broken window. None of his rounds were penetrating the van the men hid behind, so he focused the fire underneath it. With any luck, a bullet would bounce up and hit someone. When the last round left the barrel, Ray pulled back from the window to get another weapon.

Amy sank her teeth into the arm Ray had around her neck.

Ray stared down at the back of her head. He dropped the rifle, took a handful of her hair in his right hand, and yanked, freeing her teeth from his flesh. Ray spun her around so she faced him, cocked his fist, and delivered a blow to her forehead. Amy dropped and didn’t move. Ray thought about just putting a bullet in her, but if he did, the cops, feds, or whoever was outside with Kane would have no reason to remain there. Ray picked Amy up and tossed her onto one of the beds. He went to the duffel bag for another assault rifle.

The sound of semiautomatic gunfire rang from outside. Ray stayed low against the wall. He could hear the rounds entering the building’s roof. Ray took the gun into his shoulder, crouched, and moved through the open door to the building’s office. Ray took a quick glance out of the dirty window facing the street. The FBI agent Ray had had an encounter with a few nights prior was loading a man into the back of a single sheriff’s cruiser. Ray could see red down the man’s leg. He’d hit one of them. Ray assumed the gunfire he was taking was cover fire so they could get the injured man to safety. He tried getting a view up and down the street—Ray saw no traffic, but also no other feds or cops in sight.

Ray walked to the front door and crouched. Ray could see outside through the gap between the blind and window. One of the men was moving around behind the sedan, and it appeared that the rest were still behind or inside the van. He counted the men off in his head. He’d seen five in tactical gear, plus Kane.

Ray went back to the front window. The sheriff’s car was pulling away with the injured man. Amy moaned in the next room. He left the office and returned. Amy was rolling on the bed. The white sheets beneath her head had soaked up some of the blood from the two-inch cut Ray had opened when he struck her.

Amy scooted herself against the headboard when Ray came back into the room. Her hands clutched the bedsheets next to her face. Tears ran down her cheeks, and her eyeliner streaked down her face. “Please, just let me go,” she said.