by Alex Ander
Reaching the intersection with the second path, a tree on both sides of her, she leaned right while peering left to see around some drooping white-and-green boughs before whipping her head clockwise to check the other way. Her right eye picking up a flash of black, she ducked and went to a squat.
The AR-15’s buttstock sailed over the marshal’s head and thwacked against the trunk on her left.
Holding the Henry Big Boy by the forend and grip, she swung the rifle to her right.
Hammer grabbed the barrel and magazine tube in his right hand, and the receiver in his left hand, before pulling back.
Devlin went with the motion.
He reversed course, pumped his legs, and pinned her against a tree.
Pain racing up her spine, she shouted out an expletive.
He stepped back to repeat the process.
She sent a boot toward his testicles.
He blocked the attempt with his right shin then whipped his left leg around, his boot slamming into her right thigh and hip area.
Devlin bellowed, her body contorting with the blow.
Hammer jerked the marshal away from the tree trunk and twisted her into a clockwise three-quarter turn before yanking on the horizontal rifle the two still held.
Letting herself be reeled in, she caught him between the legs with an upward thrust of her right knee.
He bowed into her chest.
She wrenched the Big Boy upward.
The buckhorn-style rear sight dug into the bridge of his nose and made a gash up to the middle of his forehead.
His head flopping backward, he howled then shook his head to clear the cobwebs.
A string of blood stretched across the open space between the combatants and splattered Devlin’s unzipped jacket.
Facing away from the trail that led to the cliff, she backpedaled, pulling Hammer with her a couple paces, then swiveled her hips to her right. Her upper body following, she twisted the 45 Colt with all her might and threw him to the snow.
Maintaining his viselike grip on the firearm, Hammer came down on his left shoulder and side, continued rolling, and let his six-five frame, work to his advantage.
Her head whipping backward, Devlin’s body was propelled forward.
Hammer stuck the sole of his right boot into her left thigh/groin area.
The marshal did a forward cartwheel over the man, her feet flying into the air, before she crashed onto the compacted snow and slid backwards along the icy surface, her right hand slipping off the Henry’s grip.
Hammer pulled, wresting the long gun from her grasp.
Her legs curling over the edge of the cliff, Devlin’s body bent into a right angle at the hip. On her stomach, her arms outstretched in front of her, her eyes bulging at the thought of what lay a hundred feet below, she clawed at the snow, her fingers finding nothing solid.
Her belly grated over a sharp stone.
She dug her tactical boots into the vertical rock face.
The footwear slipped.
She tucked her left arm against her rib cage and leaned on her forearm. Her legs kicking, she searched for a toe hold while swiping her right hand over the snow, hoping to find something anchored beneath.
Off in the distance, the helicopter’s rotor blades slapped at the atmosphere, creating a fast-paced rhythmic bass beat.
Devlin dipped her chin and saw a long, dark-colored tubular object in a crack between two stones.
Her boots lost traction.
Her forearm skidded off the cliff.
Falling, she grabbed the tubular object with her right hand, dropped a foot, then got both hands around the thick tree root.
*******
Seated behind the pilot on the right half of the Bell 412 helicopter, earmuffs on her head, Faith Mahoney leaned right, her eyes scanning the forest below for activity. When Hammer’s snowmobile had darted into the woods, she had instructed the pilot to circle around and hover above the mountain lake.
On her left, a second crew member searched the terrain on his side of the aircraft.
She lowered a boom microphone attached to her muffs and shot a look at the FBI man beside her, “Anything?” before resuming her search.
FBI Man: “Nothing, ma’am. Just snow and trees.”
“Okay. Let’s make a pass over the trees where we saw them disappear.”
Pilot: “Roger that.” He moved the cyclic, and the helo banked to the right.
Her gaze never leaving the tree line near the edge of the bluff, Faith spotted movement. “There!” She thrust out her right arm. “Two o’clock...where the trees meet that vertical drop off.” She squinted and saw a tall man step up to the cliff, a rifle in his hands. In the next instant, her heart rushing up to lodge in her throat, she saw a second individual clinging to the side of the slope. Hang in there, Jess. The Seattle detective undid her safety belt, drew her Colt 45, got a solid handhold on the helicopter with her left hand, then extended her gun hand. Shutting her left eye, she lined up her sights with the upright figure. “Damn it. I don’t have a clean shot. Get me closer. Get me closer.”
“Hold on.” The pilot pushed the cyclic forward, and the Bell 412 raced toward the two people.
*******
THIRTY SECONDS EARLIER...
Randall stopped the snowmobile a few feet behind the horse, killed the motor, and hopped off while drawing his Walther PPQ45. Crouching, he came up on the animal’s nine o’clock, so it could see him coming. “Hey, Soph. Where’d she go, huh? Which way did she—” he glanced down and saw two sets of footprints disappear into the woods ahead. He patted the equine’s neck. “Hang tight, girl. I’ll be right back.” After giving the area a quick peek, he followed the tracks into the forest.
*******
Fifteen seconds later, he came upon a semi-open patch, a few trees and snow-covered brush scattered about.
The parallel tracks he had been following now split and went in two different directions. One set went straight, bisecting the wide expanse ahead, while the second set curved off to the left.
Scrutinizing the matted snow at the base of a tree on his left, he squatted to pick up one of several brass cases then blew snow off the shiny metal. 45 Long Colt. A beat. Henry Big Boy. He stood and spotted chunks of bark missing from the tree nearest the spent brass. She shot it out with him here. Randall sized up the footprints, noting the smaller ones went to the left, before he gave each set another look. She circled around to come up on his right flank. He nodded. Smart. That’s what I—
From deeper into the woods, gunshots rang out on Randall’s two o’clock.
He tossed the empty brass case, got a two-hand grip on his Walther, and charged toward the sound of the gunfire.
*******
Hammer emptied the lever gun at the approaching chopper.
Bullets pinged off metal and made spiderwebs in the windshield.
The flying machine banked to its right and retreated.
Sticking the toe of one boot into a crack, Devlin pulled with her arms.
The boot lost purchase.
Her legs flying outward, her body banged against the rock face.
“It didn’t have to come to this, you know.” Hammer clutched his right arm and winced before pulling his hand away and spying red on his palm. “Son-of-a...” he looked down at her while pulling the last cartridge from the buttstock ammo carrier. “All you had to do was let me have the horse. No one had to die.”
Losing her grip, Devlin slid along the tree root, stopping a foot later when her left hand made contact with an upside-down ‘Y’ where the root branched off and went toward the eight and four o’clock positions.
*******
Randall stopped at another intersection of tracks in the snow and noticed an AR-15 on the ground, its stock broken. Leading away from the weapon and down a narrow path, the once pristine snow was now disrupted. Catching sight of the backside of a tall figure, he craned his neck to see through the gaps in the foliage. He squinted at the form’s jacket, th
e same jacket he had seen on the man escaping the cabin, earlier. Hammer.
His back to Randall, Hammer made a quick motion.
The sound of metal scraping against metal raced toward the deputy marshal’s ears.
Noticing the Henry Big Boy’s chrome-plated barrel swinging downward, Oh, shi— Randall took a knee and leveled his 45 ACP at the man.
*******
THREE SECONDS EARLIER...
“From this distance,” Hammer showed her the 45 Long Colt cartridge before feeding it into the gun while glaring down at her, “I’ll only need the one, won’t I?”
The toe of her left boot found a sliver of a gap on the outcropping, and she gazed up at him, her eyes narrowing a tick later. “My thoughts exactly.”
Working the Henry’s lever...
Letting go of the tree root with her right hand to throw back the right half of her open jacket...
...Hammer started the downward arc of the rifle’s muzzle.
...Devlin drew her Colt 1911, thrust out the weapon above her head, “But why be stingy?” and fired four times.
The first 230-grain bullet burrowed into Hammer’s belly, just below his sternum.
His heart exploded, his body shuddering from the impact.
The second projectile hit him square in the chest.
The third punctured his neck.
The fourth entered the soft, fleshy part under his chin, destroyed his palate, and made mash of his brain before exiting the top of his skull.
The onetime-soldier-turned-bank robber teetered forward and somersaulted off the cliff, over the woman who had killed him.
Devlin holstered her weapon and resumed her death grip on the wooden ‘rope.’ Hand over hand, her boots digging into tiny fissures, she ascended the slick rock only to lose her footing and drop back down.
The helicopter zoomed in and hovered above her.
From the loudspeaker, Faith’s voice: “Hang on, Jessica. We’re lowering a harness.”
Gritting her teeth, her chest heaving, the muscles in her forearms burning, her hands clinging to the tree root, Devlin tipped her head back to see an orange-and-yellow ring swing over her head and disappear above the cliff’s edge. “What the hell, Fay?” She let her head fall forward and grabbed a couple big breaths. A lot of good that’s going to do me from up there.
Seconds later, losing the strength in her hands and arms, she glanced down to locate a soft place to land, but all she saw were jagged points jutting out from a blanket of white.
A voice from above: “You know, rappelling down a mountain with actual rope is much easier.”
Devlin looked up and saw her partner grasping the cable coming from the aircraft, the multi-colored ring under his armpits and encircling his torso. A glimmer of hope giving her a shot of strength, she let out a combination half laugh/half gasp then turned back toward the rock face. “You’re such a smart...” she finished the off-color comment with her face buried in her hands, and her forehead touching the tree root. She let out a deep, truncated squawk. “Noah, I-I’m losing my gr—”
Drawing even with her, Randall reached out with his left arm and hugged her from behind while pressing his stomach against her lower back, “I gotcha,” before glancing upward and slicing fingers across his throat.
Randall, and the apparatus securing him to the chopper, stopped descending.
“Turn around and grab the cable.” He embraced her with both arms and squeezed. “Trust me. You’re not going anywhere.”
Wriggling in his clutches, until she was belly to belly with him, Devlin let go of the tree root and gripped the steel lifeline between them.
“Now, wrap your legs around me like you really, really love me.”
“Right now, I really,” she obeyed his command with a grunt, “really do.”
“Just don’t tell—” feeling her thighs crushing the life out of his obliques, Randall pushed air into his lungs then tilted his head backward and twirled an up-turned index finger.
The helicopter went higher.
He came back to her, a cheesy grin on his face. “Just don’t tell Curt about this latest sexual encounter of ours.”
Exhaustion overtaking her, she exhaled and chuckled at the same time then let her forehead fall onto her savior’s chest. “Oh, stop it, you g—” she panted a couple times, “you goofball.”
“Goofball, huh?” He huffed. “Well, I guess that isn’t as bad as the name you called me a second ago.”
She took a moment to catch her breath then made eye contact with him. “I still stand by those words.”
He threw his head back and laughed, as his boots dangled a couple feet above the snowy overhang.
She forced the cold, tired muscles in her cheeks to form a short-lived grin. “But please know that I meant them with the utmost love and respect.”
Smiling, his feet touching down on compressed snow, “Duly noted,” he helped her stand on her own two feet. “Now, hold on while I,” keeping his left arm around her back to steady her, “get out of this,” he finagled his way out of the contraption, “thing,” before tossing it aside and giving the helo above the ‘thumbs up’ sign.
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
.
Chapter 40
Yeah...About That
7:29 A.M.
Feeling her energy stores kicking in after having taken a fifteen-minute rest break on the snowmobile Hammer had stolen, Devlin stood and faced Randall. “You never said...how’d you find me, anyway?”
He half turned his upper body and poked a thumb over his right shoulder while glimpsing the second snow craft parked a few feet behind Sophia’s hind quarters. “That guy was out with a buddy. I commandeered his buddy’s machine and ended up following Soph’s tracks in the snow. From there, I followed your tracks until I came to that busted up AR.”
She nodded.
“I didn’t see you, but I did see Hammer—and the Henry in his hands—and my gut told me I needed to act fast. But before I could pull the trigger, I heard your rapid-fire gunshots, and he dropped out of my sight picture.”
Leaning left to spy the vehicle in question, Devlin squinted at a figure climbing the slight incline. “I think God was definitely looking out for me.” She sneaked a hand between his body and left arm to pat her partner’s side twice. “Thank you, Noah. I couldn’t have held on for much longer.”
“You know I’ll always have your back, Jessica.”
“I do. And I yours.” She bypassed him and moseyed toward the oncoming woman.
Faith embraced her sister and squeezed. “Are you okay?”
Devlin grunted at having the air pushed out of her lungs. “I’m good, Fay.”
“Are you sure?” Faith took her sibling’s cheeks in her hands before cupping the elder woman’s shoulders and giving her a cursory visual examination. “You almost gave me a coronary. After the helo had to veer away from incoming fire, I heard several more gunshots, and it seemed like an eternity before we swung back around to get you.”
Devlin rubbed her sister’s upper arm. “Thanks to you, I’m fine...honest. And thanks to you, we got our man. If you hadn’t cut him off, he’d have outrun me and Sophia.”
Faith glimpsed the horse then regarded Devlin, a widening grin overtaking the younger woman’s features. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you galloping after that snowmobile,” she chortled under her breath, “with lever gun in hand no less. I thought I was watching a cowboy movie.”
One corner of her mouth turning upward, “I won’t lie,” the U.S. Marshal reached out to stroke Sophia’s fur. “It was fun tearing after him like that.”
“So,” Randall stepped forward and cocked his head at Faith, “what the heck are you doing here, anyway?”
Putting on a fake pout, she plopped hands onto hips and huffed at him.
“Sorry. I meant,” he hurried over to her and planted a long kiss on her lips before pulling away to meet her gaze, “it’s great to see you.”
She smiled
. “That’s more like it.”
“But what gives? The last thing we knew you were in California.”
“Well, once I realized old man Hammerstein wasn’t going to give up anything, I figured the best way to implicate him was to help you two get his son. So, I hopped a jet to Idaho and drove up to Elmer...to speak with Mr. Denny on your whereabouts.” She gestured toward Devlin. “That’s where I was when I finally got through to your cell. Oh, by the way,” she included Randall in the conversation with a quick peek, “disregard those hundred or so voicemails I left on your phones.”
Devlin and Randall let out a quick snicker.
“Anyway,” Faith continued, “you obviously couldn’t hear me, Jess, but I heard your every word, especially when you were giving out your location. Armed with that Intel, I called Thorn, and she arranged for a helicopter out of the FBI office in Coeur d’Alene to pick me up in Elmer. From there, we flew up to where you said you were and started searching.”
“Well,” Devlin smiled, “your timing was impeccable,” she paused, “in all ways. Without your assistance on this case, I doubt we’d have caught Hammer and his crew as soon as we did. Great work.”
“I’ll second that.” Randall tossed his flame a grin. “Too bad we can’t convince you to uproot your life in Seattle and come work with us.”
“Yeah,” Faith glimpsed him then half closed an eye at Devlin, “about that...” She looked down for a long moment then regarded her kin. “I know we both have dangerous jobs, but seeing you hanging off that mountain just now,” Faith made a face, “well, it made me realize that us talking on the phone about how our day went,” she shook her head, “isn’t nearly the same as seeing it in the flesh.”
Devlin frowned. “Okay. So,” a pulse, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I don’t want to be three thousand miles away from you, anymore,” she paused, “or Dad or Curt or Cassie for that matter.”
Devlin’s face lit up.
“So, if that job offer’s still on the table, I’d—”