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Days of Reckoning

Page 23

by Chris Stout


  Miranda shook her hair out of the bun and quickly pulled it back into a ponytail. She broke away from the crowd to move into one of the academic buildings, where she made her way into a women’s restroom. After locking herself in one of the stalls, she pulled off her turtleneck and the holsters underneath. The T-shirt came off next and then she replaced the shoulder holster over her sports bra. The material chafed against her skin, but the move would only be temporary. She slipped the T-shirt on and tied the turtleneck around her waist.

  Outside, the police were quickly restoring order on the quad. Medics were working on the men she had shot, and she could see ambulances parked in front of the administration building across the quad. Feeling guilty about ambushing the men in that building, she walked in its direction. I hope I didn’t hit Sam, she thought.

  She looked several officers full in the face, but they were all from out of town and none of them stopped her. She made it across the quad, watching with interest as the mounted police broke up a group of looters. Then she saw Sam.

  He looked frustrated, confused and angry. She couldn’t blame him. He turned in several full circles, obviously searching for someone: her. Miranda stayed on the opposite side of the road and followed him at a discreet distance. She moved with the crowd, watching as her mark was pulled along in the surge. She was maybe fifteen yards behind him when she saw Sam turn off into an alleyway. Miranda moved to her left, putting several people between her and the curb of the street, and managed to glide past him undetected. Then she saw him turn around suddenly and reach inside his jacket. Curious, she moved closer to the curb and entered an alleyway parallel to the one in which he stood. She moved down past a building, stopped at the corner and slowly peered around into the narrow gap between the buildings that led to Sam’s alley.

  #

  Sam heard the scream again. He reached into his jacket and pulled out his Glock as he moved deeper into the passage. He could hear the sounds of a struggle coming from a narrow capillary running between the building to his left and the one adjacent to it. Swinging around the corner, he saw two men assaulting a young woman. “Hold it right there!”

  The two men looked up in shock. Sam centered his sights on one of their foreheads. “Get off of her,” he commanded.

  Then he felt a flash of pain in his right side. His arm went numb, and the pistol tumbled from his hands. He turned and ducked, just avoiding the piece of piping that swung towards his head. He hadn’t noticed the third man, who must have been a look-out. Before he could recover and defend himself, one of the other assailants tackled him. Sam rolled from underneath him and lashed out with his foot, but then the pipe crash down on his thigh. He recoiled in pain, only to receive a kick to the ribs that left him gagging. Another boot got him in the back, and he was just about to black out when he heard an explosion.

  #

  The man still pinning the girl to the ground was the clearest target, so Miranda took him first. The shot from her Glock echoed off of the walls, amplified so much by the confined space that it left her ears ringing. It was enough to get the attention of the others in the alley as well, and the men kicking Sam jumped in surprise. That gave Miranda the time she needed to recover and adjust her aim. Striding into the alley, she fired a series of double taps, moving her pistol from one target to the other with each set until the slide of her weapon locked back. She dropped to one knee, simultaneously hitting the mag release. Before the empty one clattered to the pavement, she had a spare pulled out of her front pocket. She slammed it home, hit the slide release and assumed a combat crouch. The whole process took less than five seconds, and when she reacquired her targets Miranda could see that they had already fallen to the ground.

  The girl in the alley sat frozen in shock. Miranda glanced briefly at her, then at the body on the ground. A pool of blood oozed from beneath his head. Just to be sure, Miranda put another hole there, and the girl beside the dead man finally passed out. At the end of the alley Sam groaned and dragged himself to a wall. While he tried to raise himself, Miranda walked past and dispatched the two men in a similar manner as she had their friend. Then she turned back to Sam.

  The detective looked up at her from a sitting position. He still gasped with each breath and held an arm across his aching ribs. Miranda held her weapon in the low ready position, pointed generally in his direction, but her finger rested alongside the trigger guard, not in it.

  “Didn’t think I’d see you again,” she said.

  Sam nodded drunkenly and looked around. “Is she okay?” he said through gritted teeth.

  Miranda glanced at the young woman lying in the alley. “I don’t think she’s hurt much, but she’s probably suffering from shock. Are you okay?”

  Sam shook his head. “I think they broke all my ribs.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. They’re worse off, though.”

  “No shit. Nice shooting.”

  Miranda shrugged. “Just doing my job.”

  “You need to find a new line of work.”

  “Perhaps. I kind of like what I do. Now that I’ve gotten used to it.”

  “Yeah? Well, you hit Arnie and Kevin during that little show of yours.”

  Miranda frowned. “I’m sorry Sam. I wasn’t sure where they were. I just wanted to keep everyone’s head down. Are they going to be all right?”

  “I guess. You winged Kevin, but Arnie got it across the back. He’ll be hurting for a while.”

  “I’d say give him my best, but he probably doesn’t want it.”

  “Probably not.”

  “Well Sam, this really has to be goodbye. I mean it this time. I don’t want to run into you again.”

  “I can’t promise you that, Miranda,” he replied. “We’re not going to stop looking for you.”

  “Look all you want, darling. Just pray that you don’t find me.” She smiled at Sam and backed away. “Say hello to Aunt Fran for me.” She caught the look of anger that flashed through his eyes. “I mean it truly, Sam. She’s a good lady. She was never in danger. I was tracking you that day, not her. Whatever happens, I can promise you that she’s in no danger from me. Take care of her, okay?” Miranda lowered her weapon. “And that girl too.”

  And then she was gone.

  Sam struggled to get to his feet but failed. He reached behind his back and drew his PPK, then slid out into the alleyway. Miranda wasn’t there. He smacked the building with his fist and then leaned back against the wall. Taking a few breaths, he replaced the radio earpiece and keyed the unit on his belt. When nothing happened, he looked down and saw that the equipment had been smashed. The cell phone in his jacket, however, was miraculously intact. He flipped it open and punched shakily at the numbers, hitting 9-1-1. He breathed a sigh of relief when the dispatcher answered.

  “Detective Connor here,” he said raggedly. “Officer needs assistance. I’m in the alley off of the west side of Main Street. First block of the downtown area. I have civilians down as well.”

  #

  Monday morning Sam was behind his desk at the police station. An interim Chief of Police had been hired by an emergency session of the City Council. Sam had been placed on administrative leave, pending an investigation into the events of the Unity Day disaster that left seven people dead and two more officers wounded. He was in the office only to complete his statements and reports; after that he was going to spend time with his aunt. When the investigation was complete, he hoped to take a vacation, maybe go with her up to the lake where his family had spent the summers of his youth.

  A knock came at the door. “It’s open,” he said.

  Hal Golding walked through.

  Sam smiled in recognition. “Hey buddy, how’re you feeling? Shouldn’t you be on medical leave?”

  Hal’s smile was thin. “I’m not hurt that bad. Besides, we’re down too many men. How are you?”

  “Lots of cracked ribs, plenty of bruises. Other than that I’ll be okay.” Sam leaned back in his chair and noticed the shadow that cross
ed his friend’s face. “What’s up?”

  “Um, something’s happened that I think you should know about.”

  Sam’s mind raced. Was it Miranda? Had she been caught? Hal looked pretty grim. What if she refused to surrender? Not knowing what was coming, Sam tried to be light. “Hey, I’m not working for a while, remember?”

  “I know. But you might want to hear this from me, not the press. Another body was found at a house just this morning. They think it might have been Miranda’s work.”

  Sam’s forced grin turned to stone. “Where was it?”

  Hal slid a piece of carbon paper across the desk. It was a copy of a police report.

  Sam looked at the address of the incident. “That’s Tracy’s house…”

  Hal blew out a long breath and shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah," he said. "It’s pretty bad.”

  END

 

 

 


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