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Authors: Gregg - Rackley 04 Hurwitz

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Kindell claimed his rock in a fist and withdrew back into shadow.

Tim looked at the visitor entrance, but, suddenly and clearly, he knew that he wouldn't go in, wouldn't confront Kindell through a mesh screen.

Tim thought of the vulnerability of his living child. He pictured the familiar scenarios--the kidnapping, the act of God, the proverbial bus. In every moment a hundred things can go wrong. But moment after moment they don't.

Right now Dray would be packing a picnic for the park. Tyler on the kitchen floor, wearing Evel Knievel and applying a Scooby-Doo Band-Aid to a knee scrape that had healed three days ago. Bear and Michelle Westin, D.D.S., on their morning walk, Boston running laps around them, an endless loop of Rhodesian Ridgeback.

Tim turned and headed back to the Explorer.

Ninety Days After Walker's Death

Kaiyer walk hisself."

"Okay, bub." Tim still guided Tyler through the penitentiary's outermost door. On its backswing the glass caught a reflection of the stern razor wire capping the double chain links. Tim paused, taking in the grounds. The place was removed from time, somehow. It seemed not a speck of dirt had shifted in the months since Tim had delivered the boy's grandfather.

Ahead the sally-port gate, the guard tower, COs with rifles.

And Dray leaning against the grille of her Blazer, arms crossed, face tilted to the sun. She took note of their accelerating progress back across the empty visitor lot. Tyler's steps grew shorter and choppier.

Halfway there he said, "Daddy up."

Tim held out his thumbs until the tiny hands grasped them, then lifted his son, seating him against his side.

They reached the Blazer and stopped. Tim took a breath and exhaled hard.

Dray said, "I bet."

Tyler squirmed a bit, so Tim set him down. Ty picked at the Scooby-Doo Band-Aid across the toe of his sneaker. Dray studied them, her face proud and tender, the sun shining straight through her ice green eyes.

"C'mon," she said. "Let's get you boys home."

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank a number of experts who lent me their time in order to make me appear smarter than I am. I'm hopeful that their efforts paid off. If they did not, then I'm dim and accountable.

As a former marine and Terminal Island correctional officer, and current deputy U.S. marshal, Mike Pennington proved to be my utility infielder, his knowledge second only to his affability. Christopher Murphy, a brilliant biochemist, exhibited endless patience while introducing me to the ins and outs of viral vectors.

I should also like to thank Kristin Baird, M.D.; Terel Beppu, my guns 'n' bullets guy; Ali Binazir, M.D., of Elite Communications; Jason Elliott, former Navy SEAL; Jimell Griffin of the U.S. Marshals Service; Bob Levy; Thomas Sendlenski; Pegeen Rhyne and Michael Winlin of the U.S. Attorney's Office; Cheryl Van Buskirk of Caltech; and Mason Wnyocker for his business acumen.

As always, I owe much gratitude to the efforts of Stephen F. Breimer; Marc H. Glick; Rich Green of CAA; Melissa Hurwitz, M.D.; Inkwell Management; Jess Nelson Taylor; and, of course, my entire team at William Morrow. Thanks additionally to the booksellers and librarians, who continue to show me much support.

And Delinah, Rosie, and Natalie. My family.

About the Author

GREGG HURWITZ is the critically acclaimed author of The Tower, Minutes to Burn, Do No Harm, The Kill Clause, The Program and Troubleshooter. He holds a B.A. in English and psychology from Harvard University and a master's degree from Trinity College, Oxford University. He lives in Los Angeles, where he is currently writing his next novel and adapting The Kill Clause for Paramount Pictures. For more information, go to www.gregghurwitz.net.

Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.

Last Shot (2006) [2]<br/>ALSO BY GREGG HURWITZ

Troubleshooter

The Program

The Kill Clause

Do No Harm

Minutes to Burn

The Tower

Credits

Jacket design by Bernstein Andriulli, Inc.

Copyright

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

LAST SHOT. Copyright (c) 2006 by Gregg Hurwitz. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED UNDER INTERNATIONAL AND PAN-AMERICAN COPYRIGHT CONVENTIONS. BY PAYMENT OF THE REQUIRED FEES, YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED THE NON-EXCLUSIVE, NON-TRANSFERABLE RIGHT TO ACCESS AND READ THE TEXT OF THIS E-BOOK ON-SCREEN. NO PART OF THIS TEXT MAY BE RE-PRODUCED, TRANSMITTED, DOWN-LOADED, DECOMPILED, REVERSE ENGINEERED, OR STORED IN OR INTRODUCED INTO ANY INFORMATION STORAGE AND RETRIEVAL SYSTEM, IN ANY FORM OR BY ANY MEANS, WHETHER ELECTRONIC OR MECHANICAL, NOW KNOWN OR HEREINAFTER INVENTED, WITHOUT THE EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION OF HARPERCOLLINS E-BOOKS.

MICROSOFT READER AUGUST 2006 ISBN 0-06-119955-9

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Hurwitz, Gregg Andrew. Last shot / Gregg Hurwitz.--1st ed. p. cm. ISBN-13: 978-0-06-073146-5 ISBN-10: 0-06-073146-X

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

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Table of Contents

Chapter
1 The mood inside was nice and mellow until Spook taped razor blades to his

Chapter
1

Chapter
2 Decked out in Spider-Man shoes, an empty belted scabbard, Evel Knievel helme

Chapter
2

Chapter
3 Bear accelerated down the Harbor Freeway, his overused Ram protesting with a

Chapter
3

Chapter
4 The guard at the console gave them a cordial nod on their way into the secur

Chapter
4

Chapter
5 Unlike Sasso, who pivoted corners on the ball of his foot to preclude a brea

Chapter
5

Chapter
6 Tim, Bear, and Newlin sat on frail rolling chairs in the control center, sho

Chapter
6

Chapter
7 The crow lurched from one foot to the other on its spongy nighttime perch, i

Chapter
7

Chapter
8 Bear crouched with his prodigious ass floating above his heels and let his f

Chapter
8

Chapter
9 Fifth and Wall. The nucleus of a few blocks that stoically held out for squa

Chapter
9

Chapter
10 The rusting horizontal slats groaned their displeasure as the metal door sl

Chapter
10

Chapter
11 Even at 12:21 A.M. , cars lurched past the drive-through window. The manage

Chapter
11

Chapter
12 The run-down community within earshot of freeway traffic showed off couches

Chapter
12

Chapter
13 Boston bounded past Tim over the porch, leapt through the truck's open pass

Chapter
13

Chapter
14 Walker sat on the sagging couch watching the dust filter through the slant

Chapter
14

Chapter
15 Dolan cracked his knuckles for the third time that morning, psyching himsel

Chapter
15

Chapter
16 Maintaining a disciplined stillness at the head of a preposterously long co

Chapter
16

Chapter
17 Tyler's sturdy legs flexed as he tried to reverse his head out of the raili

Chapter
17

Chapter
18 Within the hour, when their stretches get stuck in traffic, I'm gonna have

Chapter
18

Chapter
19 There was no lock on the door, which made Walker nervous, but if he sat wit

Chapter
19

Chapter
20 Multiple-voice yelling rose above the blaring TV inside. Tim gave the doorb

Chapter
20

Chapter
21 A stray dog licked the necks of soda bottles in the recycle bin at the curb

Chapter
21

Chapter
22 The stumps of Marcel Deron's arms waved in circles as he laughed. The left,

Chapter
22

Chapter
23 Soiled with a fringe of water stain and an excessive smattering of bird shi

Chapter
23

Chapter
24 Tim flipped through the visitor log as he and Bear followed the head nurse

Chapter
24

Chapter
25 This time, despite the broken latch, Walker knocked on the back sliding doo

Chapter
25

Chapter
26 An attractive redhead sat behind a curved shield of a reception booth, elev

Chapter
26

Chapter
27 I need to be clear on this matter: I'm going to have to destroy the evidenc

Chapter
27

Chapter
28 Walker stepped down quietly into the model home's family room and aimed his

Chapter
28

Chapter
29 The denim couch seemed to sink around Pierce Jameson's weight, the cushions

Chapter
29

Chapter
30 A '72 Olds Cutlass Supreme held down the VIP space beside the entrance cano

Chapter
30

Chapter
31 We're past the twenty-four-hour mark. Tannino leaned into the squad room,

Chapter
31

Chapter
32 Wearing a light cotton Tommy Bahama camp shirt against the balmy August nig

Chapter
32

Chapter
33 Kaitlin opened the door, smoothing down a poof of bed head and yawning. Biz

Chapter
33

Chapter
34 Lights killed, the oversize Bronco idled beneath an overhang of pepper tree

Chapter
34

Chapter
35 Tim crouched over the blown-wide mass of flesh protruding from the neck. A

Chapter
35

Chapter
36 Ortiz got off a solid blow, and Kenny Shamrock's nose exploded in red mist.

Chapter
36

Chapter
37 You're not safe here. Kaitlin followed Walker down the hall, over a dozen

Chapter
37

Chapter
38 The command post took shape as it usually did, around an enormous conferenc

Chapter
38

Chapter
39 The churning of the roller bottles in combination with the moist warmth of

Chapter
39

Chapter
40 I said no lime. The paunchy gentleman waved off the waiter with a flare

Chapter
40

Chapter
41 Dean barely glanced up when Tim and Bear entered. His office was surprising

Chapter
41

Chapter
42 Tim screeched his Explorer around overburdened gardener trucks clogging Wil

Chapter
42

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