Fiske squinted and then nodded in confirmation. They had devised a plan of sorts on the way up. Now that the lay of the land had been established, they could implement that plan. He pulled ahead a little until they passed a bend in the road that took them beyond the line of sight from Sara’s car. Fiske pulled to a stop. The back door of the car opened, and Rufus quickly disappeared into the surrounding trees and headed through the woods toward the parking lot.
Fiske drove into the parking lot and pulled up a couple of spaces from Sara’s car. He looked over and was relieved to see her in the driver’s seat. He pulled his gun and slowly got out. He looked over the top of his car. “Sara?”
She looked at him, nodded and smiled tightly. The smile disappeared when the man next to her rose up and pointed a gun against her head. They both got out the driver’s side. Dellasandro locked one arm around her neck, his free hand holding the gun tightly against her temple.
“Over here, Fiske,” Dellasandro said. Fiske did his best to look shocked. “Where’s Harms?” Dellasandro said.
Fiske made a show of rubbing his cheek. “He had a change of heart. Didn’t want to go to the cops. Hit me and took off.”
“And left you the car? I don’t think so. Give me the answer I want or your girlfriend gets a chunk of lead in her brain.”
“I’m telling you the truth. You know he’s been in prison all these years. He didn’t take the car because he can’t even drive.”
Dellasandro considered this for a moment. “Come over here. I want your hands way, way up in the air.”
Fiske slipped the pistol in the back of his waistband and put his hands up in the air. He stepped slowly around the car and walked toward them. When he got close enough, he saw the ugly bruise on Sara’s cheek. “Are you all right, Sara?”
She nodded. “I’m sorry, John.”
“Right, right — look, just shut up,” Dellasandro said. “Exactly where did Harms get away from you?”
“When we got off the interstate. We came up Route One.”
“That was pretty stupid of him to go off like that. He’ll never get far.”
“Well, like they say, you can lead a horse to water …”
“Why don’t I believe a word you’re saying?”
“Maybe because you’ve been a lying sack of shit all your life and you figure everybody is the same way.”
Dellasandro pointed his gun at Fiske’s head. “It’s gonna be so much fun blowing you away.”
“Kind of hard disposing of a couple bodies.”
Dellasandro glanced toward the river. “Not when you’ve got the best of Mother Nature to help you.”
“And you don’t think Chandler will suspect anything?”
“What’s to suspect? The cops think you killed your brother for the insurance money. The chick here got fired today because of you and your dumb brother. Her whole career ruined. You two meet up, things get violent. Maybe you kill her and then pop yourself. Maybe it’s the other way around. Who cares? They’ll find her car, and a few days or weeks later, they’ll find your bodies floating somewhere — what’s left of them, anyway. Case closed.”
“Actually, that’s a good plan. And since I know there’s no way you could have thought of it, where are your partners?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The other two guys in the stockade that night.”
“Perkins is one,” Sara blurted out. “He’s here too.”
“Shut up!” Dellasandro yelled.
“I actually knew that one. I think I can guess who the other one is.”
“Run your theories by the fish. Let’s go.”
They all started to move toward the riverbank. Fiske glanced back at Dellasandro. “Don’t even think about it, Fiske. I could blow you away from fifty yards, much less two feet. And if your plan is to have that stupid lummox jump me from the trees, well, then just bring him on.”
Since that was their plan, Fiske’s heart sank. Then a bullet hit the dirt next to Dellasandro’s leg. He shouted and moved the pistol away from Sara’s head.
Fiske hit him hard in the belly, doubling him over, and then clocked him in the head with his fist. Before Dellasandro could recover, Rufus exploded from behind a tree and hit him with the force of a runaway tank. The man sailed down the bank and into the water from the impact. Fiske pulled his gun. Rufus was about to go after Dellasandro when more shots zipped past them and everybody hit the ground.
Fiske had one protective arm over Sara. “You see anything, Rufus?”
“Yeah, but you ain’t going to like it. I think those shots came from two different places.”
“Great, both his backups are here. Shit!” He clenched his pistol. “Look, Rufus, here’s the plan. We’ll fire two shots each and draw their fire in return so we can see where the muzzle flashes are coming from. Then I’ll cover you and you take Sara and get the hell out of here. Make it to her car and go.” Before Sara could say anything, he added, “Somebody’s got to go get Chandler.”
Rufus said, “I can stay behind. I owe these suckers a lot more than you.”
“I think you’ve carried the ball long enough.” Fiske aimed his gun. “You fire left and check left, one-two-three, now!” Sara covered her ears as the shots rang out. A few seconds later their fire was returned.
Fiske and Rufus quickly analyzed the muzzle flashes. Fiske said, “One of them’s aiming wild. Maybe we hit him. Okay, I’m going to fire in both directions. Keep your gun ready, but don’t shoot. I’m going to move to my right about ten yards. I’ll draw the fire my way. Give me to the count of twenty and then when you hear the first round go, hit it.”
Fiske started to move away, but Sara clutched at his hand, unwilling to let him go.
Fiske wanted to say something confident, cocky even, to her, to show he wasn’t scared. But he was. “I know what I’m doing, Sara. And I guess fifty years of living is better than nothing.”
She stared at him as he crawled off, convinced it would be the last time she would see him alive.
A minute later the shots began. Rufus half carried Sara as they raced for the car. They made it and Rufus threw open the door and pushed Sara inside before climbing in.
Fiske moved slowly through the underbrush, the smell of hot metal and flamed gunpowder clinging to him. His spirits had faded to nothing. He had counted his shots carefully, but, unknown to him, his clip had not been full to begin with; he had no more ammo. As he heard the car crank up, he smiled grimly. With his thoughts distracted for a moment, his ears still ringing from the shots he had fired, he didn’t hear the sound behind him until it was too late.
Dellasandro, dripping filthy river water, pointed the gun at him. Fiske couldn’t speak, his mouth too dry. He also couldn’t breathe, as though his lungs had sized up the situation and decided to stop working a few seconds before the slug would force them to. Two bullet holes in him, the third would do the trick. Darnell Jackson had been facing Fiske’s gun, had been off balance after killing Fiske’s partner; Dellasandro would have no such problems. Fiske looked in the direction of the river. A week in that water and not even his father would be able to identify him. He looked back at Leo Dellasandro: his last image before death.
When the shot came, Fiske watched in stunned silence as Leo Dellasandro pitched forward and lay still.
Fiske looked up. What he saw made him wish Dellasandro had been able to get off his own round. McKenna looked down at him. Fiske could only shake his head. Why couldn’t it have been Chandler? Why couldn’t he catch a damn break just this once? And then he saw Dellasandro’s pistol where it had landed very near to him.
“Don’t try it, Fiske,” McKenna said sharply.
“You sonofabitch!”
“Actually, I thought you’d want to thank me.”
“Why? For killing your accomplice before you kill me?”
In response, McKenna pulled another pistol from his pocket. “Here’s your pistol. I just happened to find it.”
�
�Right. Some way, someday you’re going to get what’s coming to you.”
McKenna glanced at Dellasandro. “Actually, in a way, I just did.”
The man’s next actions absolutely astonished Fiske.
McKenna flipped the gun around and handed it to him, grip first. “Now don’t go and shoot me.” He put a hand out and helped Fiske up. “Chandler’s on his way. I managed to catch him at Evans’s house. I got there just as Perkins and Dellasandro were leaving with Sara. I figured they were trying to use her to set you up. I followed along as your unofficial backup. A little better than the last one you had. I never let my guard down.”
Fiske just stared at him, unable to speak.
“Perkins took off. He was the other guy firing. I tried to hit him, but he was too far off. I also fired the shot to distract Leo. I figured Rufus was around here somewhere.”
“I thought you were one of the guys in the stockade that night,” said Fiske.
“I was.”
“Then what are you doing? Clearing your conscience? If you are, you’re the only one of the five to do it.”
“I wasn’t one of the five.”
“But you just said you were in the stockade that night.”
“There were six men there that night other than Rufus.”
Fiske looked bewildered. “I don’t understand.”
“I was the guard on duty that night, John. It took me twenty-five years to figure out what happened, but I couldn’t have done it without you and Sara. I think the PCP angle hit me right after it did you at your office. I never even knew about the drug testing at Fort Plessy, although I guess it wasn’t something they broadcast.”
“Whether anybody else knew or not, I don’t think anyone back then cared about what happened to Rufus Harms.”
“Actually, I cared.” McKenna looked down. “I just didn’t have the balls to do anything about it until it was too late. I could have stopped this whole thing.” His body seemed to sag for a second as his mind went back to the past. “But I didn’t.”
Fiske studied the man for a moment, still reeling from this last development. “Well, you’re doing something about it now.”
“Twenty-five years too late.”
“Rufus is going to be free, isn’t he? That’s all he cares about.”
McKenna looked up. “Rufus is free now, John. No one will ever put him back in prison. If they try to, they have to go through me first. And believe me, they won’t be able to.”
Fiske looked toward the road. “What about Perkins?”
McKenna smiled. “I know exactly where Perkins is going. We can call Sara in the car and let her know. As soon as Chandler gets here, we’ll go.”
“Go? Go where?”
“Perkins is going to see the fifth person who was in the stockade that night.”
“Who? Who was it?”
“You’ll find out. Soon you’ll know everything.”
CHAPTER SIXTY
When the woman opened the door, Richard Perkins burst in past her. “Where is he?”
“In his study.”
Perkins raced down the hallway and threw open the door. The tall man looked back at him, a calm look in his eyes.
Perkins shut the door. “Everything’s gone to hell and I’m getting out of here.”
Jordan Knight sat back and shook his head. “If you run, they’ll know you’re guilty.”
“They know I’m guilty now. I kidnapped Sara Evans. Leo is probably dead by now.”
“You followed her ever since she left the Court today. I hoped, when I contacted you, it would all have been taken care of. But it’s still only her word against yours.”
“Why would she make up something like that?”
Jordan rubbed his chin. “Think about it. She was fired today. You escorted her out the door. She makes wild accusations against you; perhaps you can invent some others to bolster your position.”
“Rufus Harms is still out there. I saw him.”
Jordan’s face darkened. “Ah, the celebrated Mr. Harms.”
“He killed Frank and Vic.”
“Two fewer people to worry about, then.”
“That’s damn cold-blooded of you. You were the one who told them to kill Michael Fiske. You got all this started.”
Jordan looked thoughtful. “I still don’t know how Rufus Harms was able to identify me in that appeal. He knew all of you. I wasn’t even in the Army.”
“He didn’t ID you.”
Knight looked shocked at first; then there was a glint of hope in his eyes.
Perkins explained, “I talked to Tremaine. Rayfield lied to you. You weren’t named in the appeal. Just the four of us.”
“So I’m the only unknown.” Jordan stood up and looked at Perkins. God, that meant he still had a way out. Only one more thing, one more person to deal with, and this nightmare was over. He almost trembled at the thought of it.
“Who knows for how long. God, all this for what? We shoot the bastard up with PCP and it comes down to this.”
“You actually shot him up, Richard.”
“Don’t act high and mighty now. It was your idea to use the PCP, Mr. CIA.”
“Well, naturally — I was there conducting the testing. And listening to all of you complain about Harms. Just trying to do you a favor.” He eyed Perkins with an unnerving calmness. “I’m very anti-drug now, of course.”
“Stumping to the end? How about anti-murder? How do you feel about that, Senator?”
“I never killed anybody.”
“How about that little girl, Jordan? How about her?”
“Rufus Harms pled guilty to that crime. As far as I’m concerned, that plea hasn’t changed.”
“Well, it will soon enough if we don’t do something.”
“Are you certain you want to run?”
“I’m not hanging around for the ax to fall.”
“I suppose you’ll need money?”
Perkins nodded. “I don’t have a nice little retirement package like we put together for Vic and Frank. I have the bad habit of always living beyond my means.”
Jordan took a key from his pocket and unlocked his desk drawer. “I have some cash here. The rest will have to be by check. I can give you fifty thousand, to start.”
“That sounds good. To start.”
Jordan turned and pointed a pistol at Perkins.
“What the hell are you doing, Jordan?”
“You burst in here, clearly out of your mind, telling of these outrageous crimes you’ve committed, including kidnapping Sara Evans, for what purpose I don’t know. You threaten me. I manage to get out my gun and kill you.”
“You’re crazy. No one will believe that.”
“Oh, they will, Richard.” Jordan pulled the trigger and Perkins dropped to the floor. He heard a scream from the hallway. Jordan moved to the body, quickly searched Perkins, found his gun, placed it in the dead man’s hand and fired a shot into the wall. “It’s all right,” he called out, rising from the floor and putting the pistol down. “I’m all right.” He opened the door and froze as Rufus Harms stared back at him. Behind Rufus were Chandler, McKenna, Fiske and Sara.
Jordan finally pulled his gaze from Rufus and looked at Chandler. “Richard Perkins burst in here making wild threats. He had a gun. Fortunately I was a better shot.”
McKenna stepped forward. “Senator, you don’t remember me, do you? I mean, outside the FBI?” Jordan stared at him without recognition. McKenna edged closer to the man. “Perkins and Dellasandro didn’t remember me either. It’s been a long time and we’ve all changed a lot. Besides, everybody was pretty drunk that night. Everybody except you.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I was the guard on duty the night you and your friends came calling on Rufus at Fort Plessy. It was my first and last time
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