by Mike Ryan
“Oh yeah. I’m hitting stuff.”
“I mean people!”
“Oh. Well, that I’m not sure. I mean, I may have winged someone.”
“Fantastic.”
Out in front, Jacobs was staying busy, alternating between trying to kill members of Ames’ entourage, and keeping Gunner safe from men trying to kill him. As the minutes went by, slowly but surely, Ames’ men began to dwindle. Eventually, there was less than ten, and rather than sticking it out and fighting a battle that they were clearly losing, they decided to get out of there.
“What about the boss?!” one of them said.
“Leave him! He’s dead, anyway!”
“I think he’s still breathing.”
Even though a couple of them didn’t want to bother, three of them went over to Ames’ body and dragged him into the back seat of one of their vehicles. He was still alive, though he was in bad shape, bleeding all over the place. Once their boss was in the car, the driver stepped on the gas. They started driving towards Jacobs, though his car was blocking their way out.
Since ramming the car didn’t seem like their best option, the car quickly turned directions. They sped to the right of the buildings, looking to get out the back way. Jacobs kept firing his gun, hoping to take out a few more of them on the way out, or shoot the driver, making him crash the car.
With no one else on the ground, Gunner retreated back to his position next to his owner. Jacobs kept firing at the car as it rounded the edge of the building on the right. Even Franks was taking his shots at the vehicle, though he didn’t have much chance of actually doing any damage.
As the car disappeared from sight, Franks stopped firing, then turned toward his partner. “Well, looks like that’s it. We did it.”
“They’re gone?” Thrower asked.
“Yep.” Franks looked out the window again, observing all the bodies that were now on the ground. “Man, that’s a lot of dead people down there.”
“Don’t feel bad for them. They brought it on themselves.”
“Oh, no doubt, man, I ain’t feeling bad for them. Still a lot of bodies, though. Guess we should hightail it out of here.”
“Brett out there?”
“Yeah, he and the pooch are still alive and kicking.”
“Looks like this has been a success.”
“Well, as long as Tiffany got her parents out, it’s a success.” Franks saw Jacobs by his car, getting on the phone. He assumed he was checking out the same thing. “Let’s get out of here now, huh?”
Franks followed Thrower down the steps, observing that he was moving pretty good. Once they stepped foot on the first floor, Franks pointed to Thrower’s leg.
“Hey, the leg don’t look like it’s bothering you too much.”
Thrower looked down at it. “Oh. Yeah. Forgot all about it. It’ll take more than that to keep me down.”
Suddenly, a shot rang through the air. Franks jolted forward, with Thrower putting out his arms to catch him. Another shot was fired, narrowly missing the both of them. Thrower gently tossed his friend to the side and located the shooter. The two men engaged in battle, each getting a couple of shots off. Thrower’s aim was more accurate, though, and he promptly took care of the man.
Thrower stood there for a few moments, moving in every direction, making sure there were no other threats. Then he heard someone else coming by the front door. He pointed his gun in that direction, seeing Jacobs stick his head in quickly, before pulling it back out.
“You good?” Jacobs asked.
“Eddie’s hit!” Thrower put his gun away, then checked on Franks’ condition.
Jacobs and Gunner ran through the door, instantly locating Franks on the floor. He was lying face down, but he wasn’t moving. Jacobs put his hand on Franks’ back, checking out the damage. He thought it strange they weren’t seeing any blood yet.
“Eddie?”
Franks didn’t answer. Jacobs moved his finger along Franks’ back, trying to find the bullet hole. He then shifted the bulletproof vest around that Franks was wearing, noticing that the bullet hadn’t gone through. He breathed a huge sigh of relief, looking at Thrower who saw the same thing.
“Eddie,” Jacobs said.
“Just turn me over guys,” Franks replied. “Just let me look at you’s one last time.”
Jacobs chuckled. Thrower laughed. But they helped Franks over onto his back. Even Gunner let out a bark.
“Don’t worry, little guy, I’ll be waiting for you up there with a bone or something.”
“Eddie,” Jacobs said, wanting to break the news to him that he wasn’t dying.
“I know. I know. It’s bad. My back feels like it’s on fire.”
“Eddie, it’s not that bad.”
“Don’t sugarcoat things, man. I can take it. We had a good run, though, didn’t we? Took on all comers.”
Jacobs cleared his throat. “Yeah. A pretty good run.”
“Wish I was gonna be there to see the end of it.”
“You will be.”
Franks put his hand on Jacobs’ forearm and tapped him a couple of times. “It’s OK, man, it’s OK. I’m not scared or nothing.”
“You’re not, huh?”
“No. You know, it’s kinda funny. I always assumed that it was gonna hurt real bad. But I don’t really feel nothing. I guess my body’s numb or something.”
Jacobs looked at Thrower and shook his head. “You don’t feel anything because you’re not shot.”
“Dude, it’s OK. I know it’s tough to lose the people you care about. But I want you to move on from this. Promise me that. I’m at peace with everything. I want you to be too.”
Jacobs looked at him and continued to shake his head. “Eddie, listen to what I’m saying. You’re not shot. That’s why you don’t feel anything. Because your vest took the bullet. It didn’t penetrate.”
Franks’ eyes widened, looking like they were about to jump out of his head. “What?”
Jacobs smiled and laughed. “You’re not shot. You’re not dying. You’re fine.”
Franks put his hands on his chest, feeling around. “I’m not shot?”
Jacobs shook his head. “Nope.”
Franks looked at Thrower. “Is he kidding me, man? Because if he is, it’s a cruel, cruel joke.”
Thrower confirmed the result. “He’s not kidding. You’re really not shot.”
Franks then swiftly got to his feet and jumped into the air. He let out a high-pitched scream. “Oh, thank the Lord! I’m not shot!” Then, as the shock started to wear off, he let out a grunt that indicated he was in pain. He put his hand on his back. “Ooh, kind of sore back there.”
“Yeah, that sometimes happens,” Jacobs said. “You can still feel the impact without the result.”
“Hey, whatever, it’s better than the alternative.”
“It certainly is.”
“Hey, man, that’s kind of mean of you two. Letting me think I was shot and all, just letting me lay there without telling me nothing.”
Jacobs looked at Thrower, both of them throwing their hands up.
“What about Tiffany’s parents?” Thrower asked.
“They’re good,” Jacobs answered. “Just called her before I came in here. She said everything’s good. Bucky even arrested the two guys that were there. Criminal records, had guns, so they’re going away for a while.”
“What about the other two guards?”
“Oh, they found them in the trunk of a car. They’ll be OK.”
“Seems as if everything worked out in our favor.”
“Yeah, seems like.”
Gunner then started barking at them.
“The pooch is right, guys,” Franks said. “Let's get out of here and save the celebrating for another day. Besides, I got a warm bath calling for me right now.”
“Surprised you’re not taking a trip to Lucy and Deb’s,” Jacobs said.
Franks snapped his fingers, then pointed at him. “Now you’re talking! Now you’re talking!”
The team walked out of the building and headed for the car, hopeful that they’d never have to deal with Ames again.
20
Mallette was led into the room, seeing his new lawyer walk into the room at the same time. Berry put his arm up, almost as if he were trying to get spotted in a large crowd. He was excited at the information he had to present to his client today. He hurried over to the table, starting to unpack his stuff as Mallette made his way over there.
Mallette had a stoic look on his face, still not really expecting much. But he supposed it was better than spending the time in his cell. At least it gave him something different to look at.
“I’ve got it,” Berry excitedly said. “I’ve got it.”
“You’ve got what?”
Berry put his finger in the air. “I’ve got the thing I think is going to get you out of here.”
“Oh?” Mallette didn’t sound nearly as excited as the lawyer did. Probably the result of being led down this road too many times before, only to have his hopes smashed. “You do, huh?”
Berry couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. He was confident he was getting his client out of jail. “Yes.” He looked down at one of the papers in front of him, turned it around, and slid it over to his client.
Mallette looked at it, not really seeing the relevance. “So?”
“Don’t you see?”
“No.”
Berry reached over and pointed to the paragraph that was the most interesting. “There it is. Right there.”
“I’m not seeing it.”
“Well, clearly your rights were violated. There’s no question in my mind that’s a violation of your rights.”
“So?”
“So I’m gonna start petitioning in a few days to get you out of here early.”
“And what are the chances of that?”
“I think they’re very, very good. Extremely good. Not to get your hopes up too much, but I think you can start counting the days until you’re released.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t sound overly enthused. It’s just that I’ve heard all of this before.”
“Oh, believe me, I wouldn’t be telling you this unless I was very sure of the outcome.”
“The proof will be in the pudding, as they say.”
Franks came into the room of Jacobs’ new place, finding Jacobs and Tiffany sitting on the couch close together. Thrower was in a chair across from them, and Gunner was on the floor.
“So what do you think of it?” Franks asked, holding his arms out to his side and turning his head.
Jacobs looked around. “It’s not bad.”
“Not bad? Not bad, he says. Tell me this isn’t even better than your last place. Tell me it’s not.”
“It’s OK.”
Franks’ shoulders slumped. “It’s OK. What do you think, Tiff?”
Tiffany looked at Jacobs and smiled, then answered the question. “It’s very nice, Eddie.”
“Thank you. At least there’s someone here who appreciates my genius.”
“You just found a house,” Jacobs said. “You didn’t perform brain surgery.”
“Be nice, Brett,” Tiffany said. “Be appreciative of what Eddie’s done.”
Jacobs laughed and scratched his forehead. “OK. Thank you, Eddie. This is really lovely.”
“I know you’re mocking me now, so now I’m only speaking to her.” Franks turned his attention to Tiffany. “Since you’re the only one here with manners, I’d just like to say thank you for treating and talking to me properly.”
“It really is nice,” Tiffany replied. “There’s a lot more room.” Gunner barked, causing Tiffany to laugh. “And yes, Gunner likes that there’s more room in the backyard for him too.”
“Well, you’re all welcome.” He then looked at Jacobs. “Except for you.”
Jacobs put his hand over his mouth to try to prevent him from laughing. “Well, it did take you long enough. I mean, spending a week on your couch is not that comfortable.”
“Is it my fault these things take time? I could’ve gotten you some dump, you know. And it’s lucky for you that she’s here, or else I might have. If it wasn’t for her, I still might.”
“Are you two staying here together permanently?” Thrower asked.
Jacobs and Tiffany looked at each other, neither quite sure of the answer. It wasn't something they had really discussed. They were each kind of just going with the flow.
“Uh, I don’t know,” Tiffany said. “Are we?”
“Um…” He then shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess we’d have to figure out how safe things are out there.”
“Yeah, what’s the word on Ames?” Thrower asked.
“Nothing,” Franks answered. “There ain’t no word. Nobody seems to know nothing. He hasn’t popped up in any hospitals that I can tell.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” Tiffany asked.
“Well, could be good. Too early to tell yet.”
“I don’t understand. Why isn’t it good? That would mean he’s not getting treated for injuries, isn’t it?”
“Well, like I said, it’s too early to tell. Could be that he’s got his own doctors, not exactly above ground, if you know what I mean.”
“Wouldn’t you have heard something, though?”
“Well, maybe. Maybe not. Depends how buttoned up they got everything.”
“What about cemeteries, death notices, things like that?” Jacobs asked.
“That’s the other thing. I can’t find anything that indicates he’s being treated for something, but I can’t find anything that says he’s dead either. So without there being any type of word in either direction… I just can’t say for sure yet.”
“I guess that solves it for now.”
“Solves what?” Tiffany said.
“Until I know for sure that it’s safe for you to go back to your own apartment, I’d feel better if you stayed here with me,” Jacobs said.
“Talk about torture,” Franks said, looking at Tiffany. “I mean for you, not him.”
Tiffany looked over at Thrower. “What about you, Nate? What are your plans now?”
Thrower shrugged. “I dunno. Don’t have anything else lined up at the moment.”
“Why don’t you stick around here for a while?”
Thrower smiled. “I just might do that. Plus, without knowing exactly what Ames’ status is, I shouldn’t really leave yet until I know the job is finished.”
“Great. Do you have a place to stay?”
“Uh, I got him a little something,” Franks said. “If he wants it. Not quite as big as this place, but it’s cozy enough for one guy. You’re already paid up for a month.”
“Well, guess that settles it,” Thrower said. “Looks like I’m sticking around for a little while.”
“What about it?” Jacobs asked, nudging Tiffany in the arm.
“What about what?”
“You never replied to my statement.”
“Which was?”
“I’d feel better if you stayed here a while. At least until we find out what happened to Ames. What do you think?”
She smiled, then leaned over and kissed him. “I can think of worse places to be.”
About the Author
Mike Ryan is a USA Today Bestselling Author. He lives in Pennsylvania with his wife, and four children. He’s the author of the bestselling Silencer Series, as well as many others. Visit his website at www.mikeryanbooks.com to find out more about his books, and sign up for his newsletter to be notified of new releases. You can also interact with Mike via Facebook, and Instagram.
Also by Mike Ryan
Continue with the next book in The Eliminator Series, The Return.
Other books:
The Silencer Series
The Extractor Series
The Brandon Hall Series
The Cain Series
The Ghost Series
A Dangerous Man
The Last Job
The Crew