Slash and burn jh-3

by Matt Hilton

  We were heading for DFW Airport to put the women on a plane to Rink's office in Tampa. Rink had organised protection from a couple of ex-cops he occasionally employed. McTeer and Velasquez were good guys I'd shared a beer with on a couple of occasions. They'd agreed to chaperone the sisters on the return flight, then cover them back in Florida. We were meeting them in a couple of hours, then doing a return journey to take Huffman in his lair.

  Our time in the cabin had been tender, but when Kate had learned our plans she'd once more become the fiery woman I'd grown to admire. She gave me hell about going after Huffman and the others. I was injured and tired and took the haranguing with a calmness that pissed her off even more. In the end I kissed her again and told her:

  'I have to finish this now, Kate. Otherwise none of us will ever be safe. Do you want to go through life constantly watching your back, waiting for someone to turn up and kill you? That's the kind of life I've had to put up with for years… it's not something I'd wish on my worst enemy.'

  'I'm frightened I won't see you again.'

  'I can handle Huffman.'

  She'd gently touched my wounded shoulder. 'You were lucky last time; a couple of inches lower and you'd have been dead.'

  'That was different. That time I was trying to save lives, not take them.'

  The police officer in her had baulked at my final few words.

  'They're evil people, Kate.'

  'I know.'

  'We have to stop them or they'll just keep on coming. Even if we send copies of the tape to the FBI, Huffman has a long reach. If it wasn't him chasing us, it would be someone else. The other syndicates owe him.'

  'You expect me to argue,' Kate had said, surprising me, 'but I'm not going to. I've been thinking: other than those at the ranch, there's no one left alive who can identify us. If they were killed, then that would put us in the clear.'

  I'd held her gaze and her eyes were calm and clear.

  'You've a ruthless streak I didn't know about.'

  'Not ruthless, Joe, I'm just being pragmatic.' She'd laughed at the irony. 'It seems like we've spent too much time together. Your way of thinking's beginning to rub off on me.'

  'There are still people at Little Fork who know about us. Aitken and the judge.'

  'They're both dead.'

  'What?'

  'I overheard Huffman; he assumed that you were responsible. I guessed otherwise.'

  'There were other police with Aitken when he came to try and catch me,' I said. But then I realised that at that time they were unaware of my name. The locals who had been with the Bolans had no idea who I was either. But I wasn't sure what they'd learned about Kate.

  It was as if she'd read my mind. 'Aitken didn't know who I was until after he'd handed me over to Huffman. I didn't tell him my name when I first phoned him, only that I needed to speak to him about Imogen Ballard.'

  'Imogen's identity is still a problem. The locals know who Huffman was looking for.'

  'But they're not going to say anything, are they? Who's going to admit that they were involved with what happened at Little Fork?'

  'True. And no one else knows that Imogen ever turned up here. Which means it's even more important that we stop Huffman and the others now.'

  Kate had actually convinced herself that my plan was the correct course of action. She'd shaken her head in mock reproof, then she'd held me again. 'Just make sure you don't get yourself killed.'

  'I don't plan on that,' I'd reassured her. But it was always a possibility.

  We didn't broach the subject again. We just sat next to each other in the Windstar and stayed connected for the journey down to DFW.

  McTeer and Velasquez met us. Both men knew we were up against Huffman, but they knew not to ask any questions about what we were planning next. I hugged Imogen goodbye. Then Kate and I shared a private moment before she waved me away. She linked arms with her sister and – flanked by their new bodyguards – they walked together to the departure gate.

  'You OK, Joe?' Rink asked. It's not often he addresses me by my given name. I know that when he does he's at his most concerned.

  'I've had worse injuries than this,' I told him, working my aching shoulder. The bullet had got skin and a little of the underlying muscle, but it wasn't a debilitating shot. 'It's not going to stop me. Once the adrenalin kicks in, I won't feel a thing.'

  'You know that's not what I meant.'

  Letting go of Kate was harder than I'd imagined. I'd barely known her a few days, but I had to admit that she had a powerful hold on me.

  'I'll be OK.'

  Harvey led the way back to the parking lot. Rink and I walked shoulder to shoulder like we had so many times in the past.

  'This is all your fault, you know,' I said.

  'How'd you figure that?'

  'When we spoke on the phone before Kate went missing, it was you who gave me the kick in the pants I needed.'

  'I can live with that.'

  'It's a problem, Rink. My lifestyle isn't suited to having a girl along for the ride.'

  'Then don't get too serious. Just accept things for what they are. Have a little fun, enjoy yourself for a change.'

  'I like her, Rink, but I'm afraid that Kate's the one taking things a bit too seriously.'

  'Don't worry, pretty soon she'll see you for the asshole you really are and she'll dump you for someone nicer.'

  'Someone like you?'

  'Of course.' Rink gave me his face-splitting grin. Then he laid his hand on my shoulder. 'Come on, Casanova. It's time to put all these distractions aside. There'll be time for pretty faces when Huffman's in his grave.'

  'Yeah,' I agreed.

  Back in the Windstar, I had the back seat to myself and it felt as deserted as an empty hangar. It was difficult getting a certain pretty face out of my mind. In the end, I lay across the seat, snatching a short nap, building my strength for what was to come. I had to be at my best if I ever wanted to see Kate again.

  Chapter 41

  'Wicker, I've a job for you,' Huffman said.

  The woman had been sipping green tea from a china cup in his kitchen. Her cell phone was lying on the table as though she'd just put it down and Huffman guessed that she'd been reporting back to her employers. She looked at him quizzically. This close, Huffman noticed how dark her eyes were, as though all light had been taken from them, and her pupils had dilated to the maximum. They looked solid black. He wondered if there was something other she'd taken from her DEA days than her skills: she looked high. But then she blinked and the illusion passed.

  'I've already got a job, boss. I'm going to kill Joe Hunter for you.'

  'There's something else I want from you first.'

  Wicker sat back in her chair, splaying her legs in a fashion that wasn't very feminine. She dug her thumbs into her pants pockets and sat looking up at Huffman. 'What could be more important than that?'

  'I want Imogen Ballard dead. She could still be a threat to me if she's alive.'

  'She's with Hunter. I'll kill her when I get him.'

  'I don't think that's the case,' Huffman said. 'In fact, I know it's not.'

  Wicker slowly picked up her cell phone and placed it in her breast pocket. Her other tools were either on her person or in the small bag she'd brought with her. She could be on her way with only a moment's notice. 'Tell me what you do know.'

  There was much more than he'd relate to her right now. He'd been busy since his conversation with Larry Bolan, thinking it prudent to learn as much about Joe Hunter as he could. He recalled that Kate Piers had arrived in Little Fork by way of a trip to Tampa, Florida. A couple of contacts he had down there had asked around and told him about an Englishman who'd been making waves, and plenty of enemies, in the criminal underworld. It seemed that this man – a cipher by all accounts – was getting quite a reputation as a vigilante. Some people whispered that he was ex-Special Forces. They also said that he moonlighted for a private investigations business run by an ex-soldier named Jared Rington.
Jared Rington was out of town, and it didn't take too much imagination to conclude that Rington was one of the snipers who'd helped Hunter earlier. Huffman was of the opinion that neither of the men would be leaving Texas any time soon.

  The women were another matter. Hunter would want them out of the way. He was coming back for a showdown, no doubt about it. It was the only route left open to him. The women, Huffman concluded, would be sent back to Tampa where they'd be safe.

  'The women boarded a plane out of DFW a couple of hours ago. They used false names, but I don't doubt that it was them. Two men are travelling with them.'

  'But not Hunter and his mysterious friend,' Wicker said. 'Someone else is helping them?'

  'We were able to check the passenger manifest. Two men arrived on one flight from Tampa, Florida, and then boarded the next flight out. Their names have been put through the IRS database and they came back as being residents of Tampa. Both men are employed as private security consultants. They occasionally subcontract to a company called Rington Investigations.' Huffman placed a slip of paper on the table and Wicker drew it towards her. 'That's their names and the location of their office. Think you can handle this, Wicker?'

  'Two rent-a-cops and a couple of women? I'm sure I'm up to the task.' Wicker placed the note alongside her phone in her pocket. 'But why me, boss? Why aren't you sending Grade or that hulking idiot, Bolan?'

  'Because I think that you're the best person for the job.'

  She smiled. 'For a second there I thought you wanted to protect me from the big bad men that you're going to fight.'

  'There is that,' Huffman said. Then he grunted. 'You're as tough as any of the others, Wicker. This isn't a sexist thing: I just thought you'd appreciate another chance at Kate Piers. I stopped you killing her the last time you met.'

  'Yeah, you did, boss. And that bitch tried to shoot me, too.'

  'So are you up for it?'

  She stood up, rocking on her heels and knuckling the small of her back. 'Both sisters, right?'

  'Kill Imogen and Kate and I'll pay you a bonus,' Huffman promised. He handed her a second slip of paper. 'That's your flight reservation number. Pick your tickets up at the desk I've written on there.'

  'How do I get to the airport?'

  'Take my car.' He tossed her his keys. 'I'll have it picked up after I'm finished here.'

  'I might be back before then,' Wicker said. 'I'll bring it myself.'

  Huffman shrugged. He didn't believe that she would be back in time. Hunter would be coming in the next few hours.

  Chapter 42

  The biorhythms of the human body and mind are at their lowest ebb between the hours of three and four in the morning, and it's said that more people die during those hours than at any other time of the day. It's certainly true that most people are sound asleep then, a solid reason why police launch early-morning raids on criminals in an attempt to unsettle them and catch them unprepared. When I was actively involved in seek-destroy missions on terrorists, most of my work was done during this dead time.

  It would make sense to launch our assault on Huffman but for one fact: Huffman would know that this was when I'd likely be coming for him. He still had some of his killers with him – not to mention Larry Bolan – and he would make sure that they were all alert and ready for the attack. So, I decided to let the bastard sweat, but not for too long.

  I couldn't get my head round what Huffman was really all about. This had started with him protecting his investment in an up-and-coming town in Kentucky but now things had changed. It was almost as if the man had taken me on as some form of personal challenge.

  I've fought some crazy and dangerous killers in my time. Even after retiring from the unit I have made war against Tubal Cain, a man responsible for taking the bones from dozens of his victims, and also against a contract killer who fancied himself as the fallen angel Dantalion. Both Cain and Dantalion were supremely insane, but to some extent at least I could understand what motivated them. Huffman remained a mystery that I couldn't work out.

  It wasn't that he was afraid of me. In fact, judging by the times we'd talked on the phone, he sounded like he was relishing making my acquaintance.

  In his own inimitable style, Rink weighed him up better than I did. 'Don't you get it, buddy?' he said in his languid drawl. 'The asshole's playing games. He thinks he's at the centre of some shoot-'em-up video game and he loves every goddamn second of it.'

  'You think so?'

  We were back at the cabin, sitting out by the fire that Rink had rebuilt, waiting for the sun to cast a finger of light over the lake. The burgers I'd baulked at earlier were now something I looked forward to. Harvey was playing chef. He pointed the tongs he was using to turn the burgers at me. 'Either that or he wants to prove something.'

  'Like Cain,' Rink added. 'He wanted you on his list of victims because he thought it'd make him into some sort of big guy.'

  'It's different with Huffman, though. He doesn't know who I am. He has my name but nothing about my background.'

  'That was before,' Rink pointed out. 'You can bet your sweet cheeks he's been diggin' around and knows exactly who you are now.'

  'Wouldn't be surprised if he knows who we all are,' Harvey said, loading a burger into a bun and passing it my way.

  I shrugged my shoulders, and remembered that was a bad idea when my wound shrieked in protest. Gritting my teeth, I inspected my late supper, or early breakfast, or whatever. It looked all right. I took a bite and chewed perfunctorily. It tasted better than it looked.

  'I don't think he has those kinds of resources,' I said. 'I had Kate's phone with me for a day and a half. If he had connections he'd have been able to trace it. The same kinds of connections would've been able to dig up information on me. He hasn't acted on tracing the phone, and I don't think he's found anything out about me. Nothing about my past anyway.'

  'First rule of engagement?' Rink asked.

  'Never underestimate your opponent. But that's not what I'm doing. I just can't understand why he would want to face me. What would it achieve?'

  Rink wagged a burger-loaded bun at me. 'You're forgettin' what you've accomplished. You've killed half his people; destroyed one of his buildings, fucked up his entire operation in Kentucky and taken Kate back from him. Maybe there's a little grudging respect in him.'

  'It's still weird.'

  'And the rest of your life has been normal?'

  I had to acquiesce.

  'Larry Bolan I understand. As far as he's concerned I murdered his brother. If the tables were turned, I'd want me dead too. I just don't get Huffman.'

  'So don't bother,' Rink said. 'Let's just go kill the frog-giggin' son of a bitch and get our asses back to Florida.'

  Rink's suggestion seemed as good as any other. I chewed on my food as the sun broke over the skyline behind me. It was that false dawn that stretches through the still hours before the rest of the world comes alive. When I'd enough carbohydrates inside me, I washed the greasy taste away with strong coffee. Junk food and caffeine is never the choice of athletes, but I was hoping to get this over with quickly and not run a marathon before my enemies were dead.

  Harvey had a mission to perform before we could set off. He'd promised that the M24s would be back with the sergeant at Fort Worth Joint Reserve Base. This time we wouldn't need the rifles, it would be all close stuff. Plus, we had to use guns that would be untraceable on any data base. When Rink and Harvey had fired on the two out at Quicksilver Ranch, we'd relied on the fact that the Winchester bullets would pass through their targets and be lost on the vast prairie. This time there'd be no way to avoid leaving behind incriminating rounds.

  Harvey returned within ninety minutes. Meanwhile we had cleaned up the cabin, wiping prints, and ensuring there was no trace of my blood anywhere inside. There was little likelihood that the three supposed-fishermen who'd rented the cabin would be tied to what was to occur in the coming hours, but you could never be too careful. Then we'd prepped our weapons. I had
my SIG and a KA-BAR knife, and Rink elected for the Glock 17 and his trusty Mossberg combat shotgun. He too had his knife. I knew that Harvey packed a semi-automatic handgun and he'd be ready to go. We all wore black jackets over T-shirts, jeans and boots: Rink and I looked like doormen from the roughest bar in town, but Harvey still looked sharp.

  Before we left Pilot Point for the final time, I had one last task to fulfil. I walked along the shore of the lake while I phoned Kate. Although I told myself that my motive was to check she'd arrived safely at Rink's office, really I wanted to hear her voice again. We hadn't spoken about our time in the cabin and I just wanted to reassure myself that she didn't now regret getting so close. If she didn't want anything further to do with me, it wouldn't change the outcome of my day, except maybe I'd be even more heavy-handed than usual.

  'Hi, Joe.' Her voice was low. She sounded tired, but I was relieved to find that it wasn't of me. She had put in a few exhausting days, and I'd woken her from her first sleep in many hours. 'How's your shoulder?'

  'It's fine. I'm fine.'

  'Let's keep things that way, shall we?'

  'You bet,' I said. 'You're back at Rink's place. Are McTeer and Velasquez still with you?'

  'They've set up shop in the front: we're using the back room to get a little sleep.'

  'Is Imogen OK?'

  'She's fine, Joe.'

  'I was a little rough on her back there. Tell her that I'm sorry.'

  'She's fine. Really.'

  'Good. We're about to set off,' I said. 'I just wanted you to know.'

  'I'm not going to say goodbye.'

  'Me neither.'

  'See you later then.'

  'Yeah. Try and get some sleep. I'll see you tonight, OK?'

  'OK.'

  We both rang off before things grew awkward. Then I put the phone away. It was time for my other tools, I thought, and I touched the butt of my gun. When I got back to the cabin, Rink and Harvey were waiting beside the Windstar.