by Mike Ryan
“Dave.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right. Dave. Riddell?”
“Rogers.”
“Oh. Rogers. Dave Rogers. I just have a hard time believing you wouldn’t shoot me in the back if you had the chance.”
“Well, that’s just shocking and frankly insulting that you would think of me that way.” Thrower shook his head. “I mean, I’m a professional. If you’re paying me, why would I shoot my meal ticket?”
“I just get a sense about you that money isn’t the thing that interests you most. I get a feeling you’re a complicated individual.”
“Wow. You just met me, and you already know me so well.”
Mallette continued smiling. “I won’t take much satisfaction in killing you. I’ll do it, but I won’t get much enjoyment from it like I will with your partner.”
“Partner?” Thrower looked over at Jacobs. “No, you see, this guy, I just met him last week. Barely even know him.”
“Gonna stick with that right down to the very end, huh?”
Mallette was growing tired of waiting for the report from Selby. In the end, it didn’t really matter. Even if Gunner was out there, Jacobs wasn’t going to tell him, and they could find the dog just as easily after his owner was dead. Mallette pulled out his gun and held it loosely in his hand.
“Any last requests?”
“Sure you don’t wanna beat me up some more?” Jacobs asked.
“No, I think I got it all out of my system. Well, it’s been fun.” Mallette held his gun up and pointed it at Jacobs. “Looks like I win.”
11
Mallette pointed the gun at Jacobs first, then at Thrower, and finally back to Jacobs again.
“I don’t know which one I should kill first. Should I take out Jacobs first, or should I savor it and save him for last?” Mallette briefly looked at his men, none had an answer for him. “Oh, I know. I’ll take out Mr. Rogers here, that way Jacobs can feel one last regret for pulling someone else into this fight and knowing that there is one more death on his hands.”
Thrower closed his eyes and hung his head slightly. He didn’t want to see it coming. Mallette moved his gun back to Thrower. Suddenly, thunderous sounds of gunshots were heard from outside. Everyone in the room was startled.
Thrower grinned. “Looks like you’ve got more problems than you think you do.”
Mallette and one of his men stepped outside the room. “Go find Selby and find out what’s going on.”
As he was out there, Joe was one of the men behind Thrower. He instantly saw his opportunity to get out from Mallette’s grasp. He didn’t want to be part of his group, but seeing how Mallette treated the other people who resisted, he didn’t have a choice until now. And he was going to try to make the most of it.
Joe pulled out his gun and instantly fired at the man to his left, who hadn’t been paying attention to his movements. As soon as the man dropped, Joe swung his gun around and fired at the man on the right. With both men down, Joe bent over and started loosening Thrower’s restraints. Just as Thrower got his arms free, Mallette stuck his head back in the room to see why shots had been fired. Joe immediately fired at him, hitting the wood frame of the door as Mallette quickly moved out of the way.
Mallette wasn’t sticking around to get in a shootout. He figured that battle had been lost. As he retreated through the house, he got on the line with Selby.
“Daryl, how many of Ames’ men do you have with you?”
“Uh, four.”
“Kill them. Kill them now.”
“What? Why?”
“They can’t be trusted. Joe just turned on us and set Jacobs and his friend free. Get rid of the others before they turn on us too.”
“Right.”
As soon as Thrower was free, he went over to one of the dead guards and removed his weapon. He then went over to the door and peeked out, making sure they didn’t get rushed. As he stood guard at the door, Joe got to work on freeing Jacobs. Once Jacobs was free, he also grabbed a weapon from the other dead guard.
“Here,” Joe said, offering Jacobs a small rag. “Your face is a mess.”
Jacobs gratefully took it, wiping the blood from his face, though he was still a little wary of the man. After all, he had just been with Mallette, and he recognized him as being part of Ames’ group before that. “Thanks.”
“We probably shouldn’t stay here too long,” Thrower said.
Jacobs wasn’t done with Joe yet, though. “Not that I’m not happy or grateful, but why’d you do it?”
“Look, it’s as much about me as it is about you. Ames hired me, and his beef was with you, and I just went and did what he told me. He paid the bills, you know?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s it. It’s only a job. Nothing personal for me. I ain’t got nothing against you one way or the other. When Mallette killed Ames, he wanted the rest of us to join him. One of us refused, and Mallette killed him.”
“And you waited until now for payback?”
“No, I waited until now because it was the best chance for me to get away from this man. Ever since that warehouse job, Mallette’s had us under close watch, making sure he could trust us. He’s had us with his guys twenty-four seven. Didn’t even let us have guns until we had proven loyalty to him.”
“You’ve got one now,” Jacobs said.
“Yeah, I grabbed yours while nobody was paying attention after they dragged you in here.”
Jacobs looked at his weapon. “I thought it looked familiar.” Jacobs held his hand out, and Joe put the gun in his hand. Jacobs then handed him the gun he took from the guard. “He’s not gonna like you doing this, you know. He’s not gonna forget you.”
“Well then, do us both a favor and take the son of a bitch out.”
“What are you planning after this?”
Joe shrugged and shook his head. “Just getting as far away from here as I can. New York, California, Florida, I don’t know. Anywhere but here.”
“If you really wanna take him out, an extra hand might be helpful.”
“Nah, this ain’t my fight. It’s yours. Like I said, everything here was just business for me. For you, it’s personal. I just wanna be somewhere else. Good luck to you. Hope you get him, and goodbye.”
“Well, thanks for the help.”
“You realize he’s probably killing the rest of your guys, right?” Thrower asked.
A somber look came over Joe’s face. “Yeah. I’m sorry about that, but… it can’t be helped. Everyone’s gotta look after themselves. Hope they’ll make it.”
“You see anything out there?” Jacobs asked.
“No, looks clean so far,” Thrower replied. “Mallette might have got startled and regrouped. He’ll fight another day.” He looked back at Jacobs, whose face had definitely seen better days. “You good to go or you need help?”
Jacobs wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt. He looked down at the blood on it. “I’m fine.”
Thrower shook his head. “Man, you are going to have one heck of a time explaining all this when we get back.”
Jacobs sighed. “Yeah. Let’s just make sure we get out of here so I actually have a chance to.”
“If you guys don’t mind, I’ll head out with you,” Joe said. “An extra gun won’t hurt any of us. Then when we’re on the outside, we’ll go our separate ways.”
“Sounds good.”
As soon as Jacobs gave him the signal that he was ready, Thrower emerged from the room, his eyes, head, and gun going from side to side as he scanned for signs of trouble. They’d only gotten a few feet when Thrower noticed a man standing at the corner of the wall that led into another room. Thrower immediately dove onto the floor, then rolled over as the man took a shot at him. The bullet lodged into the floor next to him. Thrower rolled back onto his feet and took aim at the man. With two shots fired and the man now on the ground, Thrower looked for his next target. There didn’t seem to be one nearby.
They kept moving through the ho
use, though Thrower wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to go back the way they came.
“Maybe we should just go out the front,” Thrower said. “Going back to the fence seems like the long way back.”
“If Mallette’s still out there, they probably wouldn’t expect us to walk out the front either,” Joe said.
Jacobs nodded, agreeing. “OK. The front it is. Just keep your eyes open. Don’t be surprised if he’s got a guy or two stationed out there.”
Thrower led the group to the front door, then threw it open, getting ready in case they had visitors out there waiting for them. There were no bullets flying at them initially. That was a good first step.
“It’s a long way to the car,” Thrower said.
“Instead of all us running out there like our hair is on fire, let’s be smart about it,” Jacobs said.
“What do you have in mind?”
“We go forward smartly, deliberately, you take the lead, you see what’s in front of us. I’ll take the right side, Joe takes the left, and we both also keep our eyes peeled for anything behind us.”
Thrower nodded and looked at Joe.
“I’m good with it,” Joe replied.
“Let’s go,” Jacobs said.
Thrower led the group through the front door. Once they were outside, they cautiously moved toward the front gate like they were a well-trained military unit. Everything seemed clear up to that point.
“Think I just saw something,” Joe said.
“Keep moving,” Jacobs responded.
He didn’t want to stop or slow down unless they absolutely had to. He didn’t care what or who was out there. Mallette’s men could move all they wanted, as long as it gave them enough time to get back to their car and get out of there.
“Sure you don’t wanna drop anchor and fight?” Thrower asked. “Maybe get Mallette out of the way now?”
“Yeah, if you think Mallette’s actually out there,” Jacobs said. “He’s probably just left a few of his guys here to give him enough time to escape.”
“Probably right.”
“And I think we’ve been through enough for one night. Let’s regroup.”
“I hear ya.”
Suddenly, shots were fired. Joe let out a sound that was a mix between a scream and a grunt before going down. Jacobs and Thrower both turned and started firing in the direction Joe was watching. After firing, they heard what sounded like someone yelling, making them think that they hit someone, though they couldn’t see exactly who or how bad it was.
“Check on him,” Thrower said, standing in front of Joe. “I got you covered.”
With the gunfire at a lull, Jacobs looked down at their new partner. Joe was holding his thigh, his hand over the hole where the bullet entered. Jacobs checked his wound as thoroughly as he could, which really wasn’t much at the moment, considering the situation.
“Looks like it went through,” Jacobs said. He then ripped off a piece of Joe’s pants, tightly wrapping it around the wound. “That should probably be good enough for a while. You’ll need to see someone once we’re out of here.”
Joe took a few deep breaths. “Just help me get out of here, and I’ll worry about the rest.”
“Can you stand?”
“I dunno. Can you give me a hand?”
Jacobs stood up and lowered his hand, allowing Joe to grab it. He then helped pull Joe back to his feet.
“You good?” Jacobs asked. Joe started to walk, putting pressure on his injured leg, but he moved with a bad limp. Jacobs shook his head. “It’ll take you forever to get out of here. C’mon.” Jacobs put Joe’s arm around his shoulder and started moving, helping him to walk faster. “Nate, let’s go!”
Thrower took a quick look at them, then started walking backwards, making sure there were no more surprises coming after them. Jacobs would have to be their eyes moving forward.
It seemed like it took forever, but they finally reached the front gate. It was closed, but it wasn’t locked. It could be opened either remotely or manually. Thrower got in front of the others and pulled the gate open, allowing all of them to go through. Thrower stayed near the gate for a minute, as Jacobs helped Joe get to the car, to give them time as well as keeping his eyes open for Mallette’s men. It didn’t appear anyone was coming.
Joe pointed to a car on the side of the road. “Just get me to that car right there.”
“That yours?” Jacobs asked.
“Well, one of Mallette’s men. I’m assuming it belongs to one of the ones no longer with us.”
“You got a key?”
“Don’t need one. I can make do.”
“What about your leg?”
“I’ll get it taken care of. Thanks.”
As Jacobs leaned Joe up against the car, Thrower came running over to them. He still didn’t see anyone else out there.
“Thanks for the assist,” Thrower said, tapping Joe on the back of the shoulder as he reached him.
Joe grinned. “Thanks for helping me out here. I assume whatever happened before with Ames and all, that’s behind us?”
“I’d say tonight squares everything.”
Jacobs nodded. He only cared about the men following Mallette and Ames, as much as they were after him. If they all recused themselves from the fight, Jacobs felt no need to go after them.
“Yeah, I’d say tonight makes us even.”
“Good luck to you both,” Joe said. “And like I said… get that SOB and take him down.”
“Will do,” Jacobs replied.
“C’mon,” Thrower said, tapping Jacobs on the shoulder as he started running back to their own car. Though they didn’t see anyone else out there at the moment, he didn’t want to take chances by standing there chatting away. He was ready for this night to be over.
Jacobs turned and joined his friend as they ran towards their car. Thrower already had the car running by the time Jacobs jumped in. As soon as the door closed, Thrower put it in gear, racing out of the area.
Jacobs sighed and closed his eyes as they drove off. “That was close.”
“Too close.”
“I should’ve brought Gunner.”
“I’m not sure it would’ve made much of a difference,” Thrower said. “In fact, if you did bring him, he might not be here with us right now. He would’ve been the first one that Mallette shot, before he even got to us.”
“Yeah, you might be right about that.”
“So it’s probably a good thing you left him behind.”
“I guess so.” Jacobs rubbed his head, feeling the cuts he now had on it. “That felt like the closest we’ve come to Mallette ending it.”
“Yeah, if it wasn’t for Joe, we wouldn’t have walked out of that room. Chalk it up to a miracle or something.”
Jacobs pulled his visor down and started looking in the mirror. Cuts, bruises, blood, his face looked like he’d been in a twelve-round boxing match. The losing end of it.
Thrower looked at him and laughed. “Yep. You’re gonna have a lot of explaining to do.”
12
Once they arrived back at the house, Jacobs and Thrower sat in the car for a few minutes.
“You sure it’s a good idea to not prepare them for… well… you.”
“I told them we were on the way back,” Jacobs said. “That way they wouldn’t worry.”
Thrower pointed at his partner’s face. “Yeah, but… you didn’t tell them about that.”
“What, do I look like I need plastic surgery on my face or something?”
“No, you just… didn’t leave the house that way. Probably should warn them that you got a few injuries.”
Jacobs shrugged. “I’m fine. A few nights of rest, and I’ll be as good as new.”
Thrower raised an eyebrow. “A few nights? You might wanna try a month.”
“OK, so I got hit a few times. Not the first time. Hopefully it’s the last. Let’s not make it bigger than it is.”
“I’m not the one who’s gonna make a big de
al out of it.”
“Let’s just get inside.”
“I agree,” Thrower said. “Let’s go in and take your lumps… again.”
“Find that amusing?”
Thrower laughed. “Just a little. Gotta take some humor out of tonight, don’t we?”
“I guess.”
They got out of the car and walked to the front door. Jacobs was a little behind Thrower as they got to the house. As soon as they reached the door, it opened with Franks being the one waiting for them. Thrower walked in first, with Jacobs ducking his head, almost as though he was trying to hide his appearance behind Thrower.
“Well, it’s about time you got…” Franks stopped himself when he noticed Jacobs’ face.
Tiffany came rushing in from the kitchen, excited that they were finally back. “Hey, how did everything…” Her mouth fell open, then she put her hands over it, as Jacobs picked his head up, allowing them to see his face. “Oh my god… what happened?”
“It’s nothing,” Jacobs answered.
“Nothing?” Franks said with a laugh. “You look like Rocky when he got into the ring with the Russian. Only Rocky looked better than you do. And he won. You look like you got the wrong end of it, man.”
“Well, I didn’t.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Sure don’t look fine.”
“Well, I am.”
“Well, you don’t—”
“I’m fine!” Jacobs said.
Franks put his hands up. “If you say so.”
Tiffany slowly walked over to Jacobs. She stood in front of him, not touching him yet. His face looked like it hurt, but she couldn’t resist any longer. She slowly, cautiously, put the tips of her fingers on his face, hoping she wasn’t causing him any more pain than it looked like he was in.
“What happened?” she asked.
“We just ran into some trouble,” Jacobs replied.
Franks laughed. “That’s one way of putting it.”
Jacobs gave him an eye but didn’t respond. And his face did hurt, but he wasn’t going to pull away from Tiffany touching it.