Jack of Hearts
Page 24
Kim didn’t move.
“Unless you want all of us to die.”
Before Kim could respond, she heard the first explosion from the north side of the warehouse. It sounded like a bomb. Like the IED that had exploded on the roof of the Snake Eyes earlier tonight.
While Kim’s attention was divided, Eleanor shook off her hold and ran the short distance to the front of the van. This time, she stepped up onto the running board, made it inside, and closed the door behind her.
Smaller explosions followed the first. Kim looked up. An orange glow lit the sky.
The last of the Thai women piled into the van and one shoved the door closed.
Eleanor yelled, “Jade! Get in!”
The woman ran around to the other side of the van and climbed aboard. “Go! Go!” she yelled to Eleanor as she slammed the door.
Kim knocked on the window. Eleanor lowered it.
“Where are you going?” Kim asked.
“Why would I tell you that?”
“Why wouldn’t you? You’re all kidnapping victims. I’m an FBI agent. We can protect you,” Kim replied.
A hysterical laugh erupted from her mouth while Eleanor shook her head violently and attempted to raise the window.
Kim pulled one of the burner phones from her pocket and wedged it into the gap before Eleanor could get the window all the way up. She pulled her weapon and pointed it at Eleanor on the other side of the glass.
“I don’t want to shoot you, Eleanor. But I will,” Kim said, hoping the terrified woman wouldn’t call her bluff. “Where are you running to? Where can I locate you?”
“Somewhere Rossi’s men will never find us,” Eleanor said, panting, fumbling with the controls.
“Rossi’s dead, Eleanor. You don’t have to worry about him anymore,” Kim replied, trying to calm her and failing fast.
“Don’t you get it? Men like Rossi never die. Someone else always takes over. We’ll never be free of them. We have to go. Right now. You should go, too. While you still can,” Eleanor said, sliding the transmission into drive and stomping the accelerator.
Kim jumped back from the van to avoid being hit by the moving vehicle.
Eleanor kept the accelerator flat against the floor, burst out of the fenced yard, and took a squealing turn onto the road. She headed toward the interstate as fast as the fully loaded gray box would carry them.
The explosions from the garage kept coming as if every vehicle in the garage was being systematically destroyed, one after the other.
Kim felt the heat blowing over her with the breeze.
Burning petroleum and other fumes she couldn’t identify assaulted her nose and her eyes.
What would happen if he exploded the warehouse?
With enough force, every inch of metal on the building could become flying shrapnel.
When Kim glanced over her shoulder, she saw Petey Burns running like a fiend toward the opposite side of the yard.
“Burns! Stop! FBI!” she yelled, facing him and fully prepared to shoot.
Before she could get off a clear shot, he jumped into a red SUV and revved it up. He punched the accelerator and sped toward the exit.
Kim fired two rounds attempting to slow Burns down. The bullets hit the vehicle’s back window in two places, but it didn’t stop.
Burns kept going at full speed until the SUV was out of range.
She had to hope The Boss or Gaspar or Finlay had a bead on the vehicle.
There was nothing more she could do about Burns from here.
Kim was standing in the warehouse yard, out in the open, when she saw another man running from the garage. He was older than Petey Burns. Taller. Bulkier.
His clothes were rough. One pant leg was torn away from his boot, flapping in the breeze.
The back of his jacket was on fire.
The fire trailed him as he ran silently forward.
And he was armed. He carried a pistol in his right hand. His head swept back and forth frantically searching.
He didn’t seem to notice her. She stepped back into the shadow of the warehouse building and waited as he came closer.
When he entered the cone of light from one of the big power poles, she saw his face.
The same face Gaspar had captured on the traffic cams.
The driver of the black limo.
The man who had abducted her back at the Orchid Thai Restaurant.
Thaddeus Sydney.
He seemed to realize his jacket was burning. He shrugged it off his left arm and then switched the pistol to his left hand so he could slip his right arm through the sleeve.
Which was when Kim made her move. While the right arm was still inside the burning jacket, she stepped into the light cone, raised her weapon, and yelled, “Stop! FBI!”
Sydney kept coming, right arm still encased in the burning jacket, eyes wild.
Time seemed to stand still as she watched him lower the pistol in his left hand, aim and shoot directly at Kim’s center mass.
Half a moment before he squeezed the trigger, she dropped to the ground and rolled to his right, aiming her gun and taking her shot.
He went down. The burning jacket, entangled on his right arm, went with him.
The fire spread to his shirt and then his pants.
He rolled onto his back, trying to smother the flames, as he squeezed off two more rounds in her direction.
The fire consumed his entire torso and climbed toward his face.
He kept shooting.
Kim aimed and fired at him again.
Her shots hit the mark. His screaming stopped instantly.
Kim jumped to her feet and ran toward him, but she was too late.
He was already dead. All she could do was stare in horrified fascination as the fire intensified and devoured him.
Her perception of time returned when she realized the entire compound was exploding and afire.
The breeze had picked up to gusts in the past few minutes. Briefly, she wondered how long it would take for the blaze to spread to the other seven warehouses. The combined inferno would melt everything in its path.
There was nothing she could do for the three dead men.
She and Burke needed to go. Now. While they could still reach the Navigator.
Where the hell was Burke?
CHAPTER 48
Wednesday, May 18
Las Vegas, Nevada
10:25 p.m.
Kim had a clear line of sight since Eleanor and the others sped away in the gray van.
She craned her neck to scan the area, not sure exactly what she was looking for or hoping to find.
Balls of fire leapt onto the roof of the warehouse and tumbled toward the back. For half a second, Kim wondered what was back there and how quickly it would catch fire and add to the massive conflagration.
The scene had already been deadly for three men on the ground. There might be others. They could be still alive. Needing help.
A moment’s indecision.
Should she stay or should she go?
In the back of the warehouse, the roof caved in with a thunderous crash.
Total destruction of the building and its contents was speeding along with rapid and unrelenting passion.
Were there more explosives planted inside? Was the whole place booby-trapped and ready to flash?
As soon as the thought occurred to her, the fire whooshed toward the open front door, lapping up the oxygen outside.
The heat and the flames and the stench and the unrelenting noise were overwhelming.
Kim squeezed her eyes shut against the stinging smoke and opened them again to peer inside.
A man was limping toward the exit from deep inside the warehouse, holding something. Probably a gun. He was covered in soot.
There was so much smoke and fire between them that Kim couldn’t see him well. Perhaps he could see her. No way to know for sure whether he was friend or foe.
She pulled her weapon and pointed in his direction.
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The adrenaline rush flooding through her body had heightened all of her senses. Even as her heart pounded hard in her chest, she tried to slow her breathing and regain control.
She didn’t call out. The effort was useless. He couldn’t hear her anyway.
He kept coming.
She took cover, blinking and wiping her stinging eyes to clear her vision as much as possible in the continuing onslaught.
The man stumbled and fell onto the floor.
She waited.
He didn’t get up.
She peered into the smoky interior, straining to see more clearly.
Repeated explosions in the garage, along with the roar of noise from the fires and the collapsing building, made it impossible to hear any human voices.
Kim moved closer to the door, shielding her face from the intensifying heat, narrowing her gaze to focus on the man down.
She crept closer.
The heat and the noise and the wind gusting through the burning roof and across the flames terrified her.
She inched further inside, closer to the downed man. She knew she was moving swiftly, but it seemed to take an eternity to get there.
He might be dead.
Or he might rise up and shoot her.
She crept a few feet closer, still squeezing her eyes open and closed, still holding her weapon ready, watching for falling debris that might crush them both.
The heat, the smoke, the flames, the heart-pounding terror intensified with every breath she struggled to grasp.
But she couldn’t simply leave him there to die. She’d seen enough death tonight already.
Another few steps toward his prone body, one more blink, one more swift breath.
And finally, she recognized him.
Burke.
Quickly, Kim holstered her weapon, covered her nose and mouth with her forearm, and rushed to him.
She leaned down toward his head and yelled to be heard.
“Come on, Burke. It’s Otto. We’ve got to get away from here. Whatever is exploding on the other side is coming closer. Get up. I’ll help you.”
His clothes, hair, and face were covered in black soot combined with sweat. He stunk.
He was wounded. One hand was splayed across a wound in his side, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. No such luck.
Breathing heavily, Burke seemed not to recognize her at first. When he realized who she was, he said, “Reacher. He’s gone. Get him.”
“We will. But you can’t help me if you’re dead. Come on. Stand up.” She helped to lift him as he struggled to push himself upright.
He put his arm around her shoulder, still applying pressure to his wound, and they managed to move, slowly, haltingly, inches at a time.
After what felt like a second eternity, they stumbled outside into the marginally cooler, clearer air.
Kim used the momentum they’d created to lead Burke away from the blaze as quickly as they could move.
Her gasping, halting breaths burned slightly less as they moved toward the road. Her eyes stung and watered and her vision clouded.
She kept going. Kept dragging him along with her.
What seemed like a third eternity later, when they finally reached the fence, she helped him to rest against it for support.
Kim slid his arm from around her shoulders, making sure he was as steady as possible on his feet.
She shouted, “I’ll get the Navigator. You wait here. Lean against the fence. I’ll only be gone a minute.”
Burke nodded, which seemed to be all the strength he could muster.
She slipped his arm off her shoulders and ran.
Through the opening where the gate had been.
Down the driveway.
She turned onto the road and ran flat out along the wide, smooth pavement illuminated by the full moon’s soft silvery glow.
Until she reached the Navigator.
CHAPTER 49
Wednesday, May 18
Las Vegas, Nevada
10:45 p.m.
Kim yanked the front door open, stepped onto the running board, and jumped into the driver’s seat. Sitting on the front edge to reach the pedals with her toes, she started it up. She pressed the accelerator as far as she could reach and raced the engine toward the exploding warehouse.
With improved perspective, she saw that the serial explosions were now igniting from the north side garage.
Each explosion was another vehicle catching fire.
Petey Burns knew how to steal cars. Made sense he’d know how to detonate them, too. Which wasn’t as easy to do as popular fiction made it seem.
She drove the Navigator back toward the open gate surrounding the expanding fire, rushing to get in and back out to escape from what she feared would be a massive explosion when the heat and flames reached the warehouse itself.
Burke remained upright, leaning heavily against the fence. She backed the Navigator as close to him as she could get it. Then she hurried out of the SUV and ran around to help her partner get inside.
She opened the passenger door and threw his arm over her shoulders again. She cajoled him along and helped him lift his feet into the footwell. They struggled to get him inside and then she asked, “Anybody else back there we can save?”
Burke’s eyes were closed. He shook his head slowly.
She closed the door behind him.
Kim ran around the back of the Navigator and climbed into the driver’s seat again. She pulled away from the fence just as yet another blast propelled itself into the sky from the garage behind them.
She pressed the accelerator all the way and fought the big SUV from the driveway to the road, passing the first warehouse and then the next, heading south toward the road that would take them into the city.
As the distance between the Navigator and the warehouse slowly widened, she heard sirens coming fast. Fire trucks and bomb squads, she hoped.
She glanced into the rearview mirror, looking for the flashing lights atop the approaching first responders.
Half a moment later, the warehouse exploded high and hard and loud behind them.
The blast jolted the Navigator. It lifted off the ground and plopped back down onto all four wheels.
Metal shrapnel flew everywhere.
Projectiles pelted the Navigator as if it was taking incoming rounds from all sides.
Several of the windows broke and cracked and fell into the cabin. She could only imagine the damage the roof was absorbing.
The headlights were shattered and stopped illuminating the road ahead.
One of the tires was punctured. Then a second.
Kim sat on the edge of the seat, both hands gripping the steering wheel. She kept her foot on the accelerator, heading away as fast and straight as the heavy SUV would travel.
The tires went flat quickly. Running on the wheels, the Navigator leaned lower and pulled hard to the right side. Kim struggled with the steering wheel to keep the heavy SUV on the road between the ditches.
Burke had strapped himself in and pulled his seatbelt tight. He held onto the handle above the window. Every bounce of the plush interior forced a heavy groan from his lips.
Kim glanced into the rearview mirror again. Flashing red lights and loud sirens turned south at the intersection behind her. More responders were approaching ahead.
She peered through the cracked windshield, looking for an ambulance. No one back at the warehouse could possibly need immediate medical attention. Burke did.
Before she could pull over to the side of the road to flag down the ambulance, a man ran out in front of the Navigator, waving his arms, asking her to stop, pointing something straight at her in case she didn’t feel like stopping.
The damaged windshield refracted his body like a funhouse mirror.
Kim saw him at the very last second, not quite sure what she was looking at because of the distortions.
The thing in his hand was definitely a gun. From this close distance, the chances of a succ
essful headshot through the windshield were better than zero.
A quick thought ran through her head. Who was this guy? He had a gun. He knew how to use it. Had he killed the others?
She didn’t have even half a moment to sort the situation out. If she didn’t manage to stop the Navigator, she’d kill him and the vehicle, too.
No question.
Kim risked releasing one hand from the steering wheel to give him one final warning. She palmed the horn and planted both feet on the brake pedal and stood on it with all her weight.
Too late, he realized she couldn’t stop within the short distance.
He fired off two rounds that went wildly over the roof just above her head.
He tried to fire again, but he was out of bullets.
Kim jerked the wheel to avoid mowing him down.
The big, heavy SUV slowed and wobbled and skidded, slewing toward the right side of the road.
The man leapt sideways toward the west shoulder at the same time.
The Navigator collided with him while he was still in mid-air.
The left front of the SUV slammed solidly into his torso.
A hard, loud blow bounced him to the ground.
The gun flew from his hand.
The Navigator kept rolling, right over his body.
Panting and delirious, Burke yelled, “You’ve killed Reacher!”
Was that Reacher?
Kim couldn’t believe she’d killed him. Pulsing shock waves ran through her body. Her stomach churned like a thrashing swamp creature determined to jump out. She pursed her lips to hold it back.
Her constant pressure on the brake seemed to take hours instead of moments to stop the big SUV.
She slid the transmission into park and jumped out.
She left the door open and ran to check on the man, glancing back once more at the warehouse.
The blazing structure sent gales of sparks and gasses outward. Big, curled flames tumbled free, burning in the air, dancing and splitting and distorting the air with their heat. They hurled themselves up and up and up higher as if reaching for Heaven itself.
When she found him in the dark ditch, even from above she could tell the man’s body was battered beyond repair. He lay on his belly, face down in the muck at the bottom of the trough.