Last Call - A Thriller (Jacqueline Jack Daniels Mysteries Book 10)

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Last Call - A Thriller (Jacqueline Jack Daniels Mysteries Book 10) Page 26

by J. A. Konrath


  “Birds of a feather,” Luther said.

  Katie couldn’t believe this was actually happening. It was all so perfect. Nothing could ruin this moment.

  “Hiya, Katie,” McGlade said. “You know that sex you owe me? How about you just let us go, and we’ll call it even. We had some fun times, right? Remember singing scat? Sca baa doobie do wah dee doo—”

  Except that.

  “Shut up, McGlade,” she said, pointing the Colt at him. “Do you know how many times I came this close to slitting your throat while we were on that endless, terrible road trip?”

  “I dunno. Eight?”

  “You are pretty irritating to travel with, Harry,” Herb said.

  Katie switched the gun to Herb. “Shut up, fatso.”

  “You are pretty fat, Herb,” Harry said. “And don’t tell me I didn’t hear your stomach rumble when psychopants here was roasting his hand.”

  The gun went back to Harry. “Talk again, and I shoot you.”

  “Shut up, McGlade,” Jack said. “You’re not helping.”

  Katie turned the Colt on Jack. “And you. I am so tired of your mouth. You condescending, self-righteous, sanctimonious, whiny, neurotic bitch.”

  “I don’t think you’re whiny, Jack,” Harry said.

  Katie aimed and shot him.

  McGlade flopped forward onto his face. Herb turned to him. “Harry!”

  “I hit him in the shoulder,” Katie said. “He’ll live. Or he won’t. It doesn’t matter. Me, my brother, and my daughter are going to hurt the three of you in ways you’ve never even imagined.”

  “You’re not my mother,” Lucy said.

  “I am, Lucy,” Katie nodded, lowering her weapon. “I had to give you up for adoption. Do you remember when I visited you at the playground? You were just a little girl. I promised I’d be back for you.” She kept nodding, and crying, finding herself unable to stop either. “And I did it. I found you. We’re all together again.”

  “So you’re my mother, and he’s my uncle?” Lucy asked.

  “Yes, baby.”

  “Then who’s my father?”

  DONALDSON

  Lucy!” Donaldson exclaimed, swinging open the door.

  But Lucy wasn’t there.

  It was a pantry.

  He gummed his lower lip, then went to check more rooms.

  “Lucy!”

  Bedroom.

  “Lucy!”

  Another bedroom.

  “Lucy!”

  Another goddamn bedroom. What was this place, a hotel?

  “Lucy!”

  “D?”

  And there she was. His Lucy. Standing right there, like something out of a dream.

  Her eye went wide. “D! You’re alive! I can’t believe you’re alive!”

  “Donaldson?”

  He turned. Saw some woman with a gun. “Do I know you?”

  “You raped me, you son of a bitch.”

  “You kinda need to narrow that down a little more.”

  “You’re her father.”

  Donaldson looked at Lucy. “Her father?”

  “D?” Lucy said. “Dad?”

  “Lucy is my kid?”

  “Whoa,” said some guy who was hunched over and bleeding on the floor. “This is some fucked-up Jerry Springer shit right here.”

  “Donaldson?” It was Jack Daniels talking now. “You were on top of the RV. How did you make it through the minefield?”

  That was a minefield? Good thing he decided to avoid all those big white Xs painted on the ground.

  “I can’t be stopped,” Donaldson said. “I’m indestructible.”

  The woman with the gun fired twice, blowing out both of Donaldson’s knees. He fell over, and then she took a knife out of her pocket and cut him open from his catheter to his breastbone, and Donaldson watched in surprise as his insides became his outsides.

  LUCY

  D!” she screamed. Then she whirled on Katie. “You bitch!”

  The razor in her hand, Lucy pounced, catching Katie deep on the side of her neck.

  Katie turned to Lucy, an expression of shock forming on her face, as the arterial spray hit the ceiling.

  LUTHER

  Katie

  Sister

  Mother

  Beautiful

  Father

  Sweet Sweet

  Hand

  Pain

  Hand Pain

  HANDPAIN

  Syrup

  Syrup

  Voices

  Voices?

  The sky

  Voices in the sky

  Sky machines

  Beaming voices

  Voices beaming

  Crazy

  Crazy?

  Who, me, crazy?

  Andy

  Andrew

  Luther

  Andrew

  Luther

  Orson

  Thomas

  Thomas

  Lucy

  Lucy

  Lucy

  Katie

  Sister

  Katie

  Sister

  A ministering angel shall my sister be

  SISTER

  LUCY

  LUCY

  KATIE

  SISTER

  LUCY

  DYING

  SISTER

  DYING

  SISTER DYING

  LUCY…

  NECKTIE

  KATIE

  She fell over, the whole world going wonky, and looked up just in time to see her brother hugging her daughter.

  No… that wasn’t a hug.

  Luther was slitting Lucy’s throat and yanking her tongue out through the newly made hole.

  LUCY

  How about that? Lucy thought as she gagged. A Columbian necktie actually is a horrible way to go.

  DONALDSON

  He tried. He tried to crawl to his Lucy. He tried to crawl to his Lucy while pushing his insides back inside.

  But someone was on him. Kneeling on his back.

  The woman who cut him. She had a neck wound that looked pretty fatal, if he was any judge of fatal neck wounds, which he was.

  Katie. He remembered her name was Katie. She was one of Ben and Winston’s girls.

  “Gotta say, Katie. You haven’t aged well.”

  Katie shoved her knife up inside him and stabbed his beating heart.

  Well, Donaldson thought. Guess I’m not indestructible after all.

  KATIE

  She fell next to Donaldson, reaching for her brother.

  Luther stared down at Katie like she was a mildly interesting insect.

  Katie blinked, her own blood stinging her eyes, and she wondered if perhaps some families were better off not being together.

  JACK

  Luther Kite stared at me, his niece’s blood still dripping from his Spyderco Harpy.

  “I don’t trust you,” he said, raising the blade and taking a step forward.

  There was a noise at the door. Like a knock, but lower down.

  “You should get that,” I said, raising my eyes toward the ceiling. “Could be the sky machines.”

  Luther opened the door—

  —and in trotted Herb Bacondict.

  “What’s that in his mouth?” Herb Benedict asked.

  “Pigs root,” said Harry, his voice weak. “That’s a landmine.”

  Luther stared down at the pig.

  “Herb,” Harry said. “Play fetch.”

  And Herb Bacondict let the landmine fall from his mouth.

  PHIN

  The bodies of the dead were everywhere. Gunfire was still heavy. Phin was still twenty meters away from the mission building, and couldn’t get any closer without risking a bullet in the head.

  “Jack!” he yelled.

  Jack didn’t answer.

  She had to be in the mission.

  Had to be.

  Phin ducked down his head and ran for it.

  JACK

  The mine didn’t go off. It hit the
floor, spun like a coin, and then landed right side up.

  “You gotta be shitting me,” Herb said.

  “Get down,” Harry told us.

  “You’re a little late on that, McGlade,” said Herb.

  “No, I’m not. Both of you, get down on the floor.”

  Herb and I obeyed. Luther began to step around the pig.

  “Have at thee, coward,” Luther said. “Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. All are punish’d!”

  “Herb,” Harry told his pet pig. “Roll over.”

  PHIN

  He made it inside the mission just as an explosion blew a door right past his face. Leading with the rifle, Phin went into the room.

  It was a slaughterhouse. Blood and guts everywhere.

  And there, lying on the floor between Herb and Harry, covered in gore…

  “Oh, no.”

  Jack.

  Not Jack.

  Phin dropped to his knees, and he wailed like it had been torn out of his body.

  “Goddamn, you’re loud,” said Harry McGlade.

  JACK

  I blinked away the blood. “Hi, babe,” I said to my husband. “We’re here to rescue you.”

  Phin crawled through the carnage and hugged me.

  “We’re handcuffed,” Herb said. “But there are bolt cutters on the wall there.”

  “I saw the blood, and I thought…” Phin looked over the mess. “What the hell happened in here?”

  “My loyal pig sacrificed himself to save us all, and was blown to bacon bits. The rest of the mess is the Guinness World Record winner for Most Dysfunctional Family.”

  Phin glanced at me.

  “I’ll explain later,” I told him.

  It only took a minute for Phin cut all of us free. I took his rifle, and Phin and Herb helped Harry.

  “How many guards still out there?” I asked.

  “At least a dozen,” he said. “We should wait in here.”

  “If we don’t let my friends know I’m alive, they’re going to blow up this place with us in it.”

  “Some friends.”

  I took the lead, and we moved quick but careful, stepping over the dead, staying low.

  A guard peeked out from behind a corner, raising his rifle. Before I could raise mine, half his head vanished.

  Another opened fire from our left flank, but dropped his weapon as his hand disintegrated.

  Thank you Val and Fleming.

  When we reached the front of the arena, I was feeling hopeful.

  By the time we neared the middle of it, I was sure we were home free. But the moment we stepped past—

  “Get down!”

  It happened in slow motion.

  Leaning against a small divot in the arena wall, covered in blood with bullet holes in her Kevlar, was Chandler.

  That was who yelled.

  She was pointing up, and I looked in time to see the guard with the mounted M60. But it wasn’t mounted anymore. Apparently he’d taken it off the tripod to shoot things that were directly below him. Such as Chandler.

  And me.

  He was aiming right at me.

  There was no time for me to fire back.

  No time for me to even react.

  I saw the muzzle flash, and heard the TAH-TAH-TAH-TAH! of big caliber machinegun fire, and then I was on my back.

  Someone had pushed me out of the way.

  Herb.

  Our eyes met just as the 7.65mm rounds tore into him.

  I raised my rifle, emptying my magazine at his bulletproof shield and making him fall back. Then I crawled to my best friend.

  I didn’t know how to stop the bleeding. There were too many holes, and even all of us put together didn’t have enough hands.

  I knelt next to him. It was tough to see because of my tears.

  “Hey, buddy,” I said.

  “Hey, buddy.” He chuckled. “This kinda sucks.”

  “You’re not going to die here, Herb.”

  “Yeah, this time I am.” Blood bubbled out of his lips. “But it’s okay. This is what I wanted, remember? The selfless hero ending. I’m glad the life I saved was yours.”

  I shook my head. “No. This isn’t… it’s not supposed to…”

  Herb looked at Phin. “Take care of our girl. She seems a little upset.”

  “I will,” Phin said.

  I reached over, held Herb’s hand. Held it so tight. Noticed Harry was holding his other one. Gunfire, to the east, chewing up the arena wall immediately above us.

  “I’m not leaving you, Herb.” The sobs were making my whole body shake. “I’m not leaving you.”

  “You have to, Jack.” Herb smiled, then winked at me. “I gotta do this one alone, partner.”

  And then he closed his eyes.

  And then he stopped moving.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  This wasn’t happening.

  Chandler reached over, feeling under Herb’s pant leg. “He’s gone.”

  “Phin,” I said, “take his arms. We’re bringing him home.”

  “Leave him,” Chandler said.

  “I can’t leave him!”

  “Then figure out how you, Phin, and Harry can carry both me and Herb.”

  “We can call Val and Fleming. They can drive in and—”

  Chandler grabbed my shirt and pulled me close. “And risk their lives, too? How many people do you want to die for this rescue attempt, Jack? Tequila’s dead. Herb’s dead. I’m down two pints of blood and counting. And you want to risk my sister and your friend, just to bring a corpse back home? We need to blow this place and get out of here before we’re all dead.”

  The pain was overwhelming. But I put it away. Compartmentalized.

  So I could deal with it.

  “Okay,” I said. “Okay.”

  I reached for Chandler to help her up.

  She held up a finger. “I’m detonating.”

  “Won’t it kill us?”

  She shook her head. “We set the charges to implode the structure.”

  “Cover!” Phin said. “The gunner is back!”

  We all threw our backs against the arena wall as the machinegun tore up the ground a few inches away from our toes.

  “I’m blowing!” Chandler yelled. “Now!”

  She pressed a button.

  Nothing happened.

  “Heath, copy. My detonator didn’t work.”

  More bullets whipped past our faces, so close I could feel the wind.

  “His detonator won’t work either. He’s pinned down. I think the receiver detached from the main charge. Or there’s a radio issue.” Chandler punched the wall with the back of her fist. “I don’t know what the goddamn problem is. And Heath said the other M60 gunner is headed our way.”

  “How do we blow the main charge?” Phin asked.

  “Shooting it would work.”

  “Can Val or Fleming hit it?” I asked.

  “It’s facing the wrong way, on the other side of the arena.”

  Phin held out his hand. “I need your gun.”

  Chandler raised her weapon, butt-first. “I have one round left. How good a shot are you?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “You have to be close enough not to miss,” Chandler said. “And if you’re that close, you’ll be within the blast radius.”

  “I won’t miss,” Phin said.

  I knew what my husband meant. He wasn’t going to miss, because he was going to be standing right next to it.

  Chandler handed him the gun.

  Phin and I looked at each other.

  He said, “I’m sorry, Jack.”

  I said, “Me, too.”

  Then I punched Phin in the face, knocking him over.

  I squatted, prying the gun from his fingers and said, “I love you, Phineas Troutt. Forever and beyond.”

  And then I took off running, gunfire stitching ground around me.

  A second gunner joined in. The other M60. Pinching me in a crossfire.
>
  I dodged away from the arena wall, bullets at my heels, and then circled back, wondering what the hell I was supposed to be looking for.

  There. Stuck to the wall. The main charge.

  I couldn’t miss. And the only way to be sure was to get close enough.

  So I got close enough.

  Stopped.

  Looked at my wedding ring.

  Thought of my daughter.

  Thought of my husband.

  Thought of everything I’d done in my life. All the victories, and all the mistakes. And maybe it wasn’t a perfect life. And maybe I hadn’t always made the right decisions.

  This decision was right. The compound would blow, the arena would collapse, and my friends would get away.

  But this was about more than just the moment. This was about the future.

  There was only one way to I could fully protect people I loved. To make sure no more monsters ever came after them.

  I’d been thinking about it for a while. And I felt I had no other choice.

  Jack Daniels had to die.

  I cocked the weapon, certain there was no way I could miss when I was this close.

  Then I fired.

  The sound of the world exploding was so achingly beautiful, it was all I needed to take to my grave.

  TWO MONTHS LATER

  PHIN

  With his daughter on his hip, Phineas Troutt walked out the front door of his home without needing to check the video monitor.

  There was no need to. With his wife dead, there wouldn’t be any bad guys calling. Ever again.

 

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