“She’s on the move sir,” Matt whispered.
“I see that. I’m on your nine o’clock, about thirty feet.”
They both saw her pull a gun from the small of her back and check the magazine.
“I don’t think this is a friendly visit, Agent Vines. What’s the call, sir?”
“Hold your position.”
Vines looked around at his feet for something he could use. She had already dispatched every other prize Vines could have hung above his mantel—he wasn’t about to let her take the most valuable one of all. Had he not had the baggage of two other officers with him, he would have just taken her out himself, but there was no way around that now.
***
Abby surveyed the area between the tree and the back of the house. About one hundred feet of open lawn. She would have to cross this significant expanse to get to the back of the house. Once there, she would have a clear shot at Bryce through the sliding glass door. She intended to use three bullets to take him out: one to break the glass, the second to hit Bryce, and the third for insurance. With the full moon still behind the clouds and the bright lights in the kitchen, the interior glass would act as a mirror and he would never see her.
She thought it was a shame that she wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes as she pulled the trigger. She wanted the satisfaction of seeing the life drain from his body. She wanted him to know who brought death to his door.
Maybe if I aim for the chest he’ll live long enough to see me step through the shattered door and put another bullet in his head. I promised Ava I’d make sure he’s dead, and this time, I will.
That cold thought chilled her.
She pulled her .22 from the small of her back and checked the magazine and the chamber one last time.
Abby said a silent prayer to steel herself, and then set off at a sprint toward the back of the house.
She only made it about halfway when she was stopped dead in her tracks by a loud crash as the glass of the rear sliding door shattered in front of her.
Abby froze.
***
What the fuck?
Bryce grabbed his gun and hit the switch next to the sliding doors, flooding the back yard with light. In a second, he saw Abby standing in the middle of the lawn, no more than fifty feet from the back of the house.
The shock wore off instantaneously as he ran toward her, gun raised.
***
Abby had been in this same situation many times before. Charge and fight, or turn and run? It wasn’t even a decision. Her feet pounded the lawn as she raced toward Bryce, firing her .22.
She cursed herself for not having much experience hitting a moving target that shoots back. She hit the ground and rolled as he fired in her direction. He didn’t appear to be aiming as much as trying to buy time, and he leaped behind the hot tub for a moment.
Abby stood.
“Get out here and fight like a man, you piece of shit!”
Nothing.
She emptied her magazine into the hot tub, sending wood trim and water everywhere.
As her weapon clicked, Bryce jumped from his hidden position and fired a few rounds at Abby as she dove behind the stairs.
“You think you’re tough?” he yelled at her. “You come to my house and think you can take me?” His own weapon clicked as he fired his last bullet.
The thick clouds parted to reveal the bright full moon as Abby stepped from behind the stairs and glared at him. “I do.”
He chuckled, a bit uncomfortably.
“You think that’s funny?”
She sprinted toward him, quickly closing the distance as she ripped her knife from its sheath and went for blood.
24
“STAND DOWN!” Vines said harshly as he grabbed Matt by the back of his shirt and pulled him back.
“But sir!”
Jeff’s voice came over their earpieces. “Did I hear shots fired?”
“Yes,” Vines replied. “We’re fine. Hold positions.”
“I think I should call this in, sir.”
“Like hell you will!”
After a moment of silence, the voice came again, “Matt, what do you think?”
Vines stared hard into his apprentice’s eyes and shook his head, almost pleading. “We got this. I need this one, Matt. Come on.”
Matt nodded. “We’re OK. Stand down.”
***
Bryce had begun to charge at Abby, but froze as she lunged through the air, knife raised to slash at his neck. He ducked, raising his forearm to shield himself from the blow. The seven-inch steel blade sliced through his coat and skin like a hot knife through butter, and he screamed as he twisted away and held tight to his arm as Abby rolled away.
She circled him just out of reach, holding the knife at arm’s length, letting the full moon glint off the blade, keeping her prey’s eyes on the steel instead of her face.
She lunged just an inch or two, and he quickly juked left. To an observer, it might have looked like she was toying with him, but she was testing him. Again she lunged, and again he juked left.
Good.
Abby charged forward. When Bryce went left, she hit the ground and used his own momentum to sweep his feet out from under him with her legs. He hit the ground with a thud, and Abby jumped on his back. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she raised his head up off the ground as she brought her knife to his throat.
She leaned forward, clenching her fist tightly, tearing a fistful of hair from his scalp. As he groaned, she seethed, “Any last words?”
He mumbled something, incoherently.
“What? Speak up!”
Just clearly enough, he mumbled again, “I’m sorry.”
The words shocked Abby like a hit from a Taser. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” he said a bit more clearly.
In her shock, Abby eased her grip ever so slightly, just for a second. Bryce used this to his advantage, he grabbed her knife hand and pushed it away from his throat as he bucked her off and flipped her onto her back.
“I’m sorry I didn’t kill you the first time,” he spat as he punched her square in the face just as she began to sit up.
It’s like getting hit with a sledgehammer, maybe worse, she thought as she fell and smacked the back of her head on the ground. As he went to land a kick to her midsection, Abby caught his foot, quickly twisting it and pulling him toward her in the direction of his kick, throwing him off-balance and sending him tumbling.
She sprang up as he hit the ground and quickly searched the area around her feet for her knife. Where did it fall?
The glint of steel flashed in the corner of her eye just in time for her to leave her feet and jump over his hand as the blade slashed toward her mid-thigh. She wasn’t fast enough, and the blade sliced open her pants and blood trickled down her leg.
She felt nothing as she landed. Her adrenaline was pumping too hard for pain to phase her. She used his off-balance position on the ground to kick him in the jaw, knocking him to the ground again. Their fight had taken them nearly the length of the yard, and the knife flew from his hand and landed on the edge of the dock twenty feet away. She jumped on his back, wrapping her arm around his neck in a chokehold and squeezing tightly.
He tried to shake her off, but Abby was a woman possessed. She held fast as he thrashed about, trying fruitlessly to loosen her grip. As he sunk to his knees, choking for air, Abby’s heart raced. Just another minute, and he’ll black out. She was surprised he was already on his knees, but he had probably been breathing hard to begin with.
At the last second, as his hand came up to the side of her head, she saw the snub-nosed barrel of a tiny revolver he had pulled from his ankle holster. She jerked her head to the side as the gun fired three rounds right next to her ear, missing her, but leaving her eardrum ringing.
Off balance, she fell to the side and hit the ground with a thud.
“Get up,” Bryce commanded.
Abby turned and looked up, the small revolver
pointed at her only a few feet away. “Fuck you.”
Bryce aimed the gun a bit lower, “Stand. Up.”
“Fuck. You.”
He squeezed the trigger and the white-hot, searing pain of flesh being torn by lead flashed through her body as the bullet ripped through her boot.
Abby screamed in pain as he grabbed her by the arm and stood her up, thrusting her forward.
“Get on the boat!” he said. “Walk!”
She stood with her back to him, staring at the steps of the dock just a few feet away, the boat and the endless expanse of water shimmering in the moonlight just beyond. She took a step forward, testing her foot. It hurt, but to her surprise, she could grit her teeth and bear weight on it just fine.
I’ve been through worse.
“Get on the boat,” he said again from behind her.
“No.”
Bryce sighed. “What do you think is going to happen here, Abby? Get on the fuckin’ boat.”
“No,” she said, staring out at the water, calming her breath. “If you want to shoot me, you’re going to have to shoot me in the back like the coward you are.”
***
“I don’t think I can do this, sir,” Matt whispered to Vines. “I can’t sit back and watch that monster kill an unarmed woman.”
Vines grabbed him by the collar and turned to get in front of his face. “Listen to me, and listen good. The Rosso case that I spent the last decade of my life on is over. That unarmed woman singlehandedly destroyed everything I worked for. I have nothing else. Bryce is it. Do you know how embarrassed I was after the bank heist? Do you know what it’s like to be forced into retirement by a director who wasn’t even born when I joined the Bureau? Bryce is the last one standing in this family, and a murder rap puts him away for life. I’m the hero who found him and took him down. That’s how this is going to go down, got it?”
“I got it. She ruined your case, you want her dead. But this is wrong.”
Vines shook his head. “Talk to me in thirty-five years when your life has gone to shit. Tell me what you think then.”
Matt nodded his head thoughtfully, looking over Vines’ shoulder at the shoreline in the distance. “What the...?”
As two more shots sounded, Vines turned and gasped, “What the fuck just happened?”
Both men turned toward the fight out in the middle of the lawn, but couldn’t put their eyes on Bryce and Abby for a good twenty seconds.
Finally Matt saw they were down near the dock, but couldn’t make out what was going on. “Look, there.”
He raised his night-vision goggles to figure it out, not believing what he saw. “Oh, shit.”
***
Moments before the gunshots, Bryce took a step toward Abby, “So you got out of the fire. How about Ava, our little sweetie? Did she get out?”
Abby offered no reaction.
“I bet she did. Don’t worry, I’ll find her. I’ll take care of her, too, but you’re first. Now get on the boat or I’ll shoot you where you stand and put you on it myself.” He pressed the snubbed-nose gun into her back.
When the gun touched her back, it set Abby off like a spring-loaded trap. She reached up and back, grabbing the back of his head and swinging herself behind him, locking her forearm across his throat. As she hung there, feet dangling about a foot above the ground, she squeezed his neck with every fiber in her body.
In shock, Bryce raised the gun to shoot her. She thrashed him back and forth until the two remaining shots fired harmlessly into the air. Abby then applied every ounce of strength she had left against his neck. His fists pounded uselessly on her arms, but she would not let go for anything.
As he wavered and stumbled, she knew his vision would soon go as black as the water in front of them. He teetered forward toward the dock, trying to pry himself from her grip. Weakening, he stopped fighting and fell forward, crashing to the dock as Abby jumped up, watching him, waiting for him to move.
Nothing.
Wait... is that?
The faint sound of sirens called in the distance. No doubt the gunfire had raised the ire of the neighbors. Even though the nearby houses could not be seen, they no doubt heard the shots fired.
Abby quickly collected her knife and rolled the unconscious Bryce next to the boat. She could not roll him in, as the edge of the boat was about eighteen inches above dock level. She leaned him against the side, jumped into the boat herself, grabbed him under the arms and heaved with everything she had, flopping him into the boat, his body crashing to the deck.
The sirens were louder, maybe even on the street by now. She quickly released the tie line on the front of the boat and ran to the back. As she unraveled the back line, she heard three men yelling as they charged down the lawn in the moonlight, bright flashlights bouncing as they ran.
She could hear them shouting.
“Stop! FBI!”
She turned toward the steering wheel and saw the key in the ignition. The men were making short work of the distance, guns drawn as the oldest of the three arrived at the shoreline.
“Stop, Abby! You’re under arrest!”
How does he know my name?
“Who are you?”
“I’m Agent Vines. I know what you did at Rosso’s. Now get off the boat and surrender, and we’ll go easy on you. They were scum.”
Abby stared at the three of them. They had their guns and flashlights trained on her, but Agent Vines was closest.
“I know the man at your feet is Bryce Haydenson,” Vines continued, “and trust me, he’ll pay for his crimes, too.”
Abby let that sink in. He’ll pay for his crimes too? Where were the authorities ten years ago when she was getting regular beatings from the heap of garbage currently at her feet? Where were they when she went to bed every night fearing for her life? They were on the family payroll. On the take, with their hands in their pockets. Where were they when Ava was taken from her bedroom just a few days ago? Where were they when Ava was trapped inside a burning building about to die?
No, I haven’t come this far to turn him over to the police.
Abby turned her body and hit the deck, grabbing the key and twisting it in the ignition. She jumped as shots were fired in her direction. As the engine caught, she pegged the throttle all the way forward and launched the boat away from the dock while staying low. Glancing back, she could see the flashing of red and blue strobes lighting up the neighborhood in front of the house.
She could also see the three agents, or at least their flashlights, bouncing along the shoreline as they raced toward a neighboring dock where a sleek fishing boat bobbed in the waves Abby created.
25
BRYCE’S NEIGHBORS were not as cavalier about their boat keys, but FBI agents pounding on their door in the middle of the night quickly convinced them to turn them over.
The three agents piled into the boat and took off from the dock, telling the local officers to stay behind in case Abby returned. Vines turned to Jeff, who had been watching the front. “Did you call for back up? I specifically told you not to. We can take her ourselves!”
“No, sir, I did not,” he said, looking back at the strobe lights flooding the neighborhood. “I’m guessing the neighbors did that once they heard shots being fired.”
Vines stared at him a moment before turning back to the water and reprimanding him, “Don’t be a smart-ass.”
“She’s just about ten o’clock, sir,” Matt called out from the front of the boat, pointing to the left.
Vines squinted. There she is. He picked out Abby’s boat in the bright moonlight and adjusted course to put her right in his sights before feeding full power to the engine and closing in.
He estimated her to be at least half a mile, if not more, ahead. Being the only boat on the calm water, however, made her easy to pick out. He could already tell they were gaining on her, albeit incrementally, but they would catch her. Their boat was bigger and faster.
“We’re going to catch her,” he announced
. “It’ll be about ten minutes before we overtake her boat. I want you boys to be ready to board the moment I pull up alongside. Got it?”
“Sir,” Matt said, “don’t you think we should coordinate with local law enforcement? I’m sure they’ve got at least one boat in the water, if not more.”
“No, this is my collar boys. This is the big one, and I’m not sharing the spotlight, got it?”
The two junior agents nodded, but also glanced at each other, unsure what to make of Vines’ insistence on going it alone.
The water and the boat became decidedly darker as thick clouds moved in, obscuring the bright moon. Vines looked ahead, unable to make out Abby’s boat. He checked his pocket for his small binoculars but realized he dropped them earlier when they started running. “Who’s got night vision?”
Jeff pulled a small pair of binoculars from his belt and handed them over. Vines had him hold the wheel while he cranked up the brightness to accommodate for the sudden darkness. “There she is, clear as a bell.” He smiled, moving in for the kill.
***
A light drizzle began to fall as Abby watched the agents’ boat fade into the darkness behind her. Thank you! She allowed herself to feel a small bit of relief—luck was on her side, at least for the time being.
With the nose of the boat pointed toward hundreds of miles of open water, and the throttle open, Abby rummaged around in a bin looking for a rope or something to keep the wheel straight. She settled on a short bungee cord that she looped through the wheel and hooked to a cup holder directly under it. Satisfied that it would keep the boat pointed relatively forward, Abby turned her attention to her leg and foot.
The cut on her thigh didn’t go too deep, and actually appeared to have stopped bleeding. She thought about tearing away some of the material around the wound to better clean it, but then figured the compression of the tight pants that surrounded the cut was probably helping, so she decided to leave it alone for now.
Escape, Dead End Page 19