“Bring it on.”
Malone grabbed Kemp in a headlock and punched him in the face several times. Kemp squirmed in his grasp, popping his head free, and shoved him back a few feet. Malone grabbed Kemp again, this time by his shirt collar. Kemp threw a vicious upper cut, snapping Malone’s head back. Malone stumbled backward, and he tasted the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. Kemp lunged forward and tackled Malone around the waist. They fell to the ground, rolling several times, but Malone landed on top of Kemp. Kneeling on his chest, Malone drew his right arm back and slammed his fist into Kemp’s face several times. The crushing blows split his nose and bottom lip wide open. Fading in and out of consciousness, Kemp stopped fighting, his hands at his side, his face bloodied. Resisting the urge to beat him to death with his bare hands, Malone got to his feet, brushed the grass off his black dress slacks, and headed back toward Basov.
Kemp got to his feet and scrambled after him. Malone spun around and noticed he was brandishing a knife. Kemp jabbed the knife at Malone’s face. Malone jumped back, his muscles tense, his hands in front of him. Kemp dashed forward, jabbing the knife, trying to plunge it into his chest. Malone darted to the side and threw a right hook to the body. The blast to his ribcage knocked Kemp back a few steps, his face twisting in pain, the knife at his side. Malone threw a front kick, knocking the knife out of Kemp’s hand. Kemp charged full speed ahead. Malone caught Kemp in a deadly grasp, one hand behind the back of his head, the other hand over his face. Kemp grabbed Malone’s wrists, trying to break free. With one fluid motion, Malone forced Kemp’s head sideways, twisting it well past his shoulder. There was a loud crack, followed by a gurgling sound—his last living breath getting caught between the shattered bone and cartilage in his throat. Expressionless, Kemp collapsed to the ground, face down, dead.
Chapter 65
Unarmed and outgunned, Malone didn’t have the slightest idea what he was going to do next. Even worse, he didn’t have a bargaining chip, nothing to offer in exchange for his life or Raven’s life. Given the nature of his work, he always knew this day would come. He stood in front of Basov, his chin up, both hands clenched into tight fists. In all likelihood, the mob boss was probably going to kill them on the spot, not pass the buck to one of his foot soldiers.
“Thanks for letting me handle things,” Malone said. “Kemp got what he deserved.”
“Yes, he did,” Basov said. “I didn’t like that filthy maggot, either.”
“It looks like we’ve got something in common.”
Basov looked impressed. “You’re a lot tougher than I realized.”
Malone felt his whole body run cold. Even though he’d defied death countless times in the line of duty before, he knew he wasn’t going to live through this one. “That’s not the first time I’ve heard that before. But it’s going to be my last, right?”
“Everyone has a number. You know that. It comes with the territory.”
“Well, get it over with.”
“You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”
Malone knew he was fighting a losing battle. He hoped he could appeal to Basov’s sensibilities. “Before you kill me, I’d like to ask you for a favor.”
“I’m listening.”
“Let Special Agent Raven go. This is between us, not her.”
“Oh, I see.” Basov nodded at a foot soldier standing behind Raven. The man unlocked her handcuffs and brought her over to them. “You have a thing for her, huh?”
“No, it’s not like that.”
Basov grew serious. “Well, it’s a package deal. Whatever I do to you, I do to her, too.”
“Make an exception.”
“No, that’s not how it works. That’s not how I play the game.”
Malone felt his anger rushing to the surface. Everything got to him—the terrorists attacks, the cyanide deaths, the two police officers deaths. “This isn’t a damn game. Look at how many people are dead.”
“Breaking the law is a game to me. Either the bad guy wins or he loses. It’s that simple.”
Basov looked at two foot soldiers and pointed to the ground. Armed with guns, the men grabbed Malone and Raven and forced them to their knees. Standing behind them, they pointed their nine millimeters at the back of their heads. The rest of the foot soldiers drew closer to them, obviously anxious to watch their execution. Malone knew they were sitting ducks.
“Don’t do this,” Raven said, her voice cracking. “I have a little girl at home.”
Basov gave her a curious look. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“It’s going to be her birthday in a few days. She’s only going to be twelve years old.”
Malone’s heart went out to her. He wished they weren’t in this position, surrounded by a group of trained killers. He racked his brain, but he couldn’t think of a way out.
Basov narrowed his eyes. “Your line of work carries risks.”
“Please don’t kill me today. It’s so close to her birthday. It will stay with her for the rest of her life. She’ll never get over it.”
“You shouldn’t have joined the FBI. It’s too dangerous. It proves you’re a bad mother.”
Raven blinked back tears. “You’re a cold-hearted bastard.”
“I have to be.” Basov turned up his palm and shrugged. “I’m in a tough business.”
Basov turned his back to them. He looked in distance, at two foot soldiers standing several feet away, and gave them the thumbs up. The men reached into a black Cadillac Escalade and yanked a man to his feet. Holding him underneath his arms, the foot soldiers dragged him across the field to Basov. Bound and gagged, the man knelt before the mob boss. Basov drew a Walther 9 millimeter from a holster on his left hip and pointed it at the man’s forehead. He pulled the trigger, blowing his brains out.
“It’s your lucky day.” Basov spun back around. “I’m not going to kill you guys.”
“I don’t get it,” Malone said, helping Raven to her feet. “There has to be a catch.”
“That piece of shit on the ground disobeyed my orders.”
Malone stared at the corpse. “What does this have to do with us?”
“I instructed him to kill someone. But instead of making the hit, he let him get away.”
“I don’t follow you.”
“You tangled with two punks behind the strip mall.” Basov slipped his gun back into his holster. “Bobby Skinner, the punk you shot to death, was dating my cousin.”
Two foot soldiers walked over to Basov. One of them leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Basov nodded. Both men walked to the helicopter, where the pilot was still sitting behind the black console. They opened the door and slid into the seat behind him. There was a high-pitched whining sound, followed by rotary blades whipping through the air. Within seconds, the chopper lifted off the grassy field and flew into the evening sky.
Malone pressed him for more information. “So, you’re happy about that?”
“My cousin broke up with him. But Bobby kept calling her. Sometimes, ten time a day.”
“That’s typical for an obsessed lover.”
“You stopped him from raping and murdering my cousin behind the strip mall that day.”
Malone breathed a deep sigh of relief. He never expected that killing a thug in an alley would end up saving his life. “I was in the right place at the right time, I guess.”
“This makes us even, Sergeant. Now, we don’t owe each other anything.”
Malone wasn’t about to let it go. “You still have to pay for what you’ve done.”
“I’m leaving the country, going back to Russia.”
“Make it a permanent vacation, all right?”
“No, I’ll be back in Miami soon, because I still have more business to conduct.”
Malone wasn’t going to ease up on him. He knew he was responsible for killing one of his friends, but he wanted to get him to admit it. “There was a rookie cop. Tim. Tim Jones.”
“I knew him, Se
rgeant. He brought me the hard drives from the police evidence room.”
“You killed him, didn’t you?”
Basov’s eyes grew cold. “I don’t remember. But even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“If you ever come back to Miami, I’ll make you pay for it.”
“I’m looking forward to it, Sergeant. In fact, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Basov pretended to shoot him, dropping his thumb on his forefinger. He smiled at them, turned around, and headed toward the getaway cars. The group of foot soldiers walked behind him, all with their weapons at their sides, prepared to fire at the first sign of aggression. Basov and four men got into a black Cadillac Escalade and shut the doors. The rest of the foot soldiers got into two other vehicles, four into a dark maroon Lincoln Navigator and five into a blue Chevrolet Tahoe. No doubt following an escape route, the gangsters sped across the large grassy field, heading out of Miami.
“That was too close for comfort,” Raven said. “I never expected that.”
“It wasn’t our time, I suppose.”
Raven gave him a wary look. “I’m still shocked we’re alive.”
Malone cracked his knuckles. Even though he agreed with her, he still felt like he came up short. “I wanted Basov to pay for his crimes.”
“We’ll join forces again. We’ll get him the next time he returns to Miami.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
“I get to spend time with my daughter on her birthday because of you.”
Malone gave her a smile. In that respect, he was happy with how things had turned out. “We just got lucky, that’s all.”
Raven’s face brightened. “You should come to her party on Saturday night.”
“I don’t even celebrate my own birthday, let alone someone else’s.”
“We’ll have a dinner at my house. Plus, I’d love to have a drink with you.”
“If you make it a few, you definitely have a deal.”
Raven smiled at him, obviously impressed by everything he had done to save their lives. With the sun setting in the evening sky, she looked more beautiful to him than any sunset he had ever seen before. Maybe she’s the girl for me, after all. He wanted to spend more time with her and find out. Far off in the distance, a few hundred feet across the grassy field, he saw an old, rundown diner. He was looking forward to having a few drinks with her now, instead of waiting for the weekend to come.
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