Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

by Patterson, James

  I could see sheets of smoke from the rifles rising to my right. I could also smell the gunsmoke in the air.

  It struck me that we weren't getting out of this one. I could see Sampson where he lay. He wasn't moving. Not even a twitch. I couldn't get to him. They had me pinned down. My last case. I had said that right from the start.

  “John,” I called. “John! Can you hear me?”

  I waited a few seconds, then I called out again. “John! Move something. John?”

  Please say something. Please move.

  Nothing came back to me.

  Except another round of heavy fire from the woods.

  Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

  Chapter Ninety-Six

  I hadn't experienced anything like the explosive rage, but also the fear, that I felt. This happened in combat, I realized, and considered the irony. Soldiers lost buddies in the war and went a little mad, or maybe a great deal mad.

  Is that what had happened in the An Lao Valley? There was a noisy buzzing inside my head, bright flashes of color in front of my eyes. Everything around me felt completely surreal.

  “John,” I called again. “If you can hear me, move something. Move a leg. John!”

  Don't die on me. Not like this. Not now.

  He didn't move, didn't respond. There was no sign that he was alive. He didn't shiver or twitch.

  Nothing at all.

  More rifle fire suddenly erupted from the woods, and I hugged the ground, digging my face into leaves and dirt.

  I tried to put Sampson out of my mind. If I didn't, I would wind up dead. I had a terrible thought about John and Billie. Then I let it go. I had to. Otherwise, I'd die out here for sure.

  Trouble was, I didn't see how I was going to out-maneuver three Army Rangers in the woods, especially on terrain they were familiar with. These were experienced combat veterans. So they wouldn't risk closing in on me right away. They'd wait until dark.

  Not too long from now. Maybe a half-hour. Then I was going to die, wasn't I?

  I lay behind a big hemlock, and a lot of disconnected thoughts shunted through my head. I thought about my kids, how unprepared I was to die, and how I would never see them again. I'd had so many warnings, so many close calls, but here I was.

  I checked on Sampson again he still hadn't moved.

  I raised my head a couple of times. Just for a second. I turkey-necked a look across the horizon.

  There were no moving shadows in the woods. I knew they were there though, waiting me out. Three Army assassins. Led by Colonel Thomas Starkey.

  They'd been here before; they were patient as death itself.

  They had killed a lot of people. In the Army. And out of it.

  I thought of something Sampson had said before he went to help the two women. When we see them, we open up. No warnings, Alex. No prisoners. Do you understand what I'm saying?

  I understood perfectly.

  Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

  Chapter Ninety-Seven

  Patience. This was a waiting game, right? I understood that much about tonight. I even knew the military jargon for what I had to do next.

  EE. Evade and escape.

  I studied the rough terrain behind me and saw that I could slide down into a hollow that would give me some cover but would also allow me to move laterally, east or west. I could change my position without their knowing it.

  That would give me a small advantage.

  But I'd take anything I could get right now. I felt that I was a dead man. I didn't see any way out of this. So the hollow or gully looked awfully good to me.

  I thought about Starkey, Griffin and Harris. How good they were; how badly I wanted to bring them down, Starkey in particular. He was the smart one, the leader, the cruelest of the three. Then I thought of what Sampson had said: No prisoners. Only they had to be thinking the same thing.

  I started to slide backward. I call it a slide, but I was almost burrowing into the wet leaves and soft ground.

  At least I made it down into the hollow without being shot. Catbrier was stuck all over my legs and chest. I wasn't sure, but I didn't think I could be seen from the woods. No one shot me in the head anyway. That was a good sign, right? A victory in itself.

  I crawled sideways in the hollow slowly with my face pressed deep into the cold dirt and leaves. I couldn't breathe very well. I kept moving until I was a good fifteen or twenty yards from my original position. I didn't risk looking up, but I knew my angle to the woods and the house had changed significantly.

  Could they be watching me from somewhere close by? I didn't think so. But was I right?

  I listened.

  I didn't hear a twig break or brush being pushed aside. Just the steady whistle of the wind.

  I pressed my ear to the ground, willing to try anything for an advantage. It didn't help.

  Then I waited some more.

  Patience.

  Things Sampson had told me about the Army Rangers surfaced in my head. Odd facts. They had supposedly killed fifty-five VC for every Ranger in the war. That was the story anyway. And they took care of their own. In the Vietnam War only one Ranger was listed MIA. All the others were accounted for, every single one.

  Maybe they had gone, fled from the woods, but I doubted it. Why would they leave me here alive? They wouldn't... Starkey wouldn't allow it.

  I felt guilty that I'd left Sampson, but I wouldn't let myself dwell on it. I couldn't think about him. Not now. Later. If there was a later.

  When we see them, we open up.

  No warnings, Alex.

  Do you understand what I'm saying?

  I moved again, circling to the northeast, I figured. Were they moving on me, too?

  I stopped.

  New position.

  I waited there some more. Every minute seemed like ten. Then I saw something move. Jesus! What the hell? It was a bobcat, eating its own droppings. Maybe twenty, twenty-five yards away. Unconcerned with me. In its own world.

  I heard someone coming, and he was very fucking close.

  How had he gotten so close without my hearing him before?

  Shit, he was right on top of me!

  Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

  Chapter Ninety-Eight

  Had he heard me, too? Did he know I was right there, a few feet away?

  I didn't dare breathe. Or even blink my eyes.

  He moved again.

  Very slow, very careful, a professional soldier. No, a professional killer. There was a big difference. Or was there?

  I didn't move an inch.

  Patience.

  No prisoners.

  He was so close almost to the hollow I was lying in. He was coming for me. He had to know my position.

  Which one of them was it? Starkey? Griffin? Harris -who I had avoided crashing into during a softball game? Was he going to kill me now? Or would I kill him?

  Somebody was going to die in a minute or less.

  Who could it be?

  Who was up there over my head?

  I shifted my body so I'd see him the instant he came over the edge. Was that what he would do? What were his instincts? He'd done this kind of tracking before. I hadn't. Not in the woods. And not in a war zone.

  He moved again. Inches at a time.

  Where the hell was he going? He was just about on top of me.

  I watched the uneven ridge of the hollow and I held my breath. Tried not to blink. I felt the sweat streaming through my hair and down the back of my neck, down my back. An incredible cold sweat. The buzzing in my ears returned.

  Someone rolled over the edge!

  Brownley Harris. His eyes widened when he saw me waiting there for him, my gun aimed at his face.

  I fired just one shot. Boom. Then there was a dark hole where his nose had been an instant before. Blood spurted from the center of his face. His M-16 dropped from his hands.

  “No warnings,” I whispered as I took the rifle. Were the others close behind him? I waited for them. R
eady as I'd ever be for a shootout.

  Sergeant Warren Griffin.

  Colonel Thomas Starkey.

  The woods were so eerie. Silent again. I scuttled away under the cover of darkness.

  Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

  Chapter Ninety-Nine

  A three-quarter moon was out and that was both good and bad news. I was sure they would come for me now. It seemed logical, but was my logic the same as theirs?

  I was back close to my original position in the woods. I thought so anyway.

  Then I was certain.

  My eyes teared involuntarily. I saw Sampson, lying still, right where he'd been shot. I could see the body so clearly in the moonlight. And I started to shake. What had happened was finally hitting me with its full force. I swiped at my eyes. A fist seemed to clench my heart and hold it tight, wouldn't let go.

  I could see the dead women lying in the dirt road. Flies were buzzing around the bodies. An owl hooted from a nearby tree. I shuddered. In the morning perhaps a hawk or turkey vultures would come to feed on the bodies.

  I slipped on the night goggles I'd brought with me. I hoped they would give me an advantage. Maybe not,

  probably not. Starkey and Griffin would have the best, too. They worked for a company that manufactured high-tech equipment, didn't they?

  I kept reminding myself that I'd taken out Brownley Harris. It gave me some confidence. He'd looked so utterly surprised to see me. Now he was dead, his arrogance gone, exploded in an instant by a bullet.

  But how could I surprise Starkey and Griffin? They must have heard the shot. Maybe they thought it came from Harris. No, they had to know he was dead.

  For a couple of minutes I considered a flat-out run. Maybe I could get to the road. I doubted it, though. More likely I'd be shot down trying.

  They were good at this, but Harris had been good, too. He was experienced, and now he was lying dead in a ditch. I had his rifle in my hands.

  Patience. Wait on them. They have questions and doubts, too.

  I watched Sampson's body for another few seconds, then I had to turn away. I couldn't think about him now. I mustn't, or I would die as well.

  I never heard it coming a sudden blast of deafening gunfire. One or both of them had gotten between me and the cabin. I spun in the direction of the shots. Then a voice pierced the darkness.

  Close behind me.

  “Put down the gun, Cross. I don't want to kill you. Not just yet.”

  Warren Griffin was down in the hollow with me. I saw him now. He had a rifle aimed at my chest. He wore night goggles and looked like an alien.

  Then Thomas Starkey appeared, also wearing goggles. He was above the gully, staring down. He had an M-16 aimed right at my face and he was smiling horribly. His victory grin.

  “You couldn't leave it alone, asshole. So now Brownley's dead. So's your partner,” said Starkey. “You satisfied yet?”

  “You forgot the two women. And the lawyer,” I said.

  It was strange to be looking at Griffin and Starkey through the night vision glasses, knowing that they were seeing me the same way. I wanted to take them down so much it hurt. Unfortunately that wasn't going to happen.

  “What the hell happened in Vietnam?” I asked Starkey. “What started all of this? What the hell was it?”

  “Everybody who was over there knows what happened. Nobody wants to talk about it. Things got out of hand.”

  “Like what, Starkey? How did it get this bad?”

  “At first, there was a rogue platoon on the loose. That's what we were told anyway. We were sent to the An Lao Valley to stop them. To clean it up.”

  “You mean murder our own soldiers? Those were your orders, Starkey? Who the hell is behind this? Why the murders now?”

  I was going to die, but I still wanted answers. I needed to know the truth. Hell of an epitaph. Alex Cross. Died seeking the truth.

  “I don't even fucking know,” Starkey hissed. "Not all of it. I'm not going to talk about it anymore either. Maybe what I'm going to do... is cut you into little pieces. That happened over there. I'll show you what was done in the

  An Lao Valley. See this knife. It's called a K-Bar. I'm really good with it. I've had some practice recently."

  “I know you have. I've seen some of your butchery.”

  Then the strangest thing I could ever imagine happened. It blew my wheels off, completely blew my mind into a thousand pieces.

  I was staring past Starkey. But something was different in the background. At first I didn't know what, then I did and my knees became weak.

  Sampson was gone!

  I didn't see his body anyway. At first I figured I was just disoriented. But then I was sure I wasn't. His body had been over there near a tall beech tree. Now it wasn't there.

  No warnings, Alex.

  No prisoners.

  Do you understand what I'm saying?

  I heard his words echo inside my head. I could hear the exact sound of it.

  “Put down your guns,” I said to Starkey and Griffin. “Drop them right now. Now!”

  They looked puzzled, but kept their guns aimed at me.

  “I'm going to cut you everywhere,” Starkey said. “This is gonna take hours. We'll be here 'til morning. I promise.”

  “Put down the guns!” I heard Sampson's voice before I saw him walk out from behind a tree. And the knife, Starkey! You're not cutting anybody."

  Warren Griffin spun around. Two shots instantly caught him in the throat and upper chest. His gun went off as he fell over backwards to the ground. Arterial blood pumped from his wounds as he died.

  “Starkey, no!”I yelled. “No!”

  Thomas Starkey had raised his gun at me. Then he took one high in the chest. It didn't stop him. A second shot stung him in the side and spun him full around. A third blasted through his forehead and he went down for good in a bloody heap. His gun and K-Bar fell into the gully near my feet. His blank eyes stared into the night sky.

  No prisoners.

  Sampson was weaving toward me. As he came forward he rasped, “I'm okay, I'm okay.”

  Just before he collapsed into my arms.

  Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

  PART FIVE

  FOUR BLIND MICE

  Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

  Chapter One Hundred

  As it turned out, Jamilla was a life-send after the shootings in Georgia.

  She called every day, often two or three times, and we talked until she could tell I was healing some. Sampson was the one who'd been physically wounded, and he was healing now too, but I was the one who seemed hurt the most. There had been too much killing, for too long, in my life.

  Early one morning Dr. Kayla Coles arrived at the house on Fifth Street. She marched right into the kitchen where Nana and I were eating breakfast.

  “What's that?” she pointed an accusatory finger and asked with an arched eyebrow.

  “It's decaf. Just terrible. A memory of real coffee, and a bad one at that, ”Nana told her with a straight face.

  “No, I'm talking about Alex's plate. What are you eating?”

  I pointed out the ingredients for her. "These are two eggs, over-easy. What's left of two hot sausage patties.

  Home fries, slightly burned. The remains of a homemade sticky bun. Mmm mmm good."

  “You made this for him?” She looked at Nana in horror.

  “No, Alex made it for himself. He's been cooking most of the breakfasts since my fainting spell. He's treating himself this morning because his big murder case is finally over. And he's feeling better.”

  “Then I take it you don't always eat like this?”

  I smiled at her. “No, Doctor. I don't usually eat eggs, sausage, sticky buns and greasy potatoes. I was almost killed down in Georgia, and I'm celebrating that I wasn't. I guess that I prefer death by breakfast. Care to join us?”

  She laughed out loud. “I thought you'd never ask. I smelled something heavenly when I opened the car door. I follow
ed it all the way to the kitchen.”

  Kayla Coles asked a few questions about the case while she ate a single egg, orange juice, just a bite of a sticky bun. I glossed over most of the details of the case, but I gave her a feel for the three killers and what they had done, and what I knew about why, which wasn't enough, but that's the way it goes sometimes.

  “Where's John Sampson now?” she wanted to know.

  “Mantoloking, New Jersey,” I said. “He's recovering from his wounds, among other things. He has a nurse. A live-in, I hear.”

  “She's his girlfriend,” said Nana. “That's what he really needed anyway.”

  After breakfast Dr. Coles gave Nana a physical right there in the house. She took her temperature, pulse, blood pressure, listened to her chest with a stethoscope, then did a P and A. She checked for fluid buildup in Nana's ankles, the tops of her feet and hands, under her eyes. She looked into Nana's eyes and ears, tested her reflexes, looked at the color of her lips and nail beds. I knew all the elements of the test and possibly could have done the exam myself, but Nana liked getting visits from Kayla Coles.

  I couldn't take my eyes off Nana during the checkup. She just sat there, and she seemed like a little girl to me. She never said a word, never complained.

  When Kayla was finished, Nana finally spoke up. “Am I still alive? I haven't passed, have I? Like that scary movie with what'shisname Willis.”

  “Bruce Willis... Yes, you're still with us, Nana. You're doing beautifully.”

  Nana took a deep breath and sighed out loud. “Then I guess tomorrow's the big day. Go in for my catheter ablation, my radio-frequency ablation, whatever it is.”

  Dr. Coles nodded. “You'll be in and out of the hospital in a snap. I promise you that.”

  Nana narrowed her eyes. “You keep your promises?”

  “Always,” said Kayla Coles.

  Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice