Firepower by John Cutter (ebook reader online .txt) 📕

“Where are we headed?” she asked.

“Head northeast for Stonewall, Agent Corlin, and kill the heli’s lights. Bobby — we’re going to need directions…”

*

Rose Destry lived on the outskirts of Stonewall, in the countryside to the east. There was a big, empty field behind her house that she had rented out to farmers in earlier times. Now it was overgrown with knee-high grass and weeds.

Gustafson’s helicopter settled down in the field, as close to the house as Deirdre dared.

“Switch on the lights!” Vince yelled.

The heli’s lights came on; a few seconds later, so did the lights over the back deck of the house about fifty yards away.

Watching through the window, Vince could see Rose Destry, in a nightgown, coming out on the back porch.

“Bobby — go on home and take care of your Mom!” Vince said.

Bobby came over to him and, over the rumble of the idling engine and the whine of the slowly whirling rotors, he said, “I got to thank you, man. You saved my life. I know it. They were never going to let me live.” He put out his hand and Vince shook it.

“Go on, bro — and listen: Take your mom out of Stonewall for a while. Just talk her into it. Leave before dawn. Get out of town and, I don’t know, visit Florida or someplace. Get out of state. Be safer.”

Bobby nodded. “Yeah. We’ll do it.” He turned to Deirdre and said, “Thanks for the ride, ma’am!”

She looked over her shoulder — wincing at the pain this brought — and managed a smile.

Then Bobby opened the hatch, jumped down and ran toward his mother.

Vince watched, smiling, as Chris’s little brother ran to Rose Destry and into her arms.

“Take us up, Agent Corlin!” he called, shutting the hatch. “And lights out!”

The rotors whirled faster, the engine hum deepened, and the heli rose into the sky.

She slanted up to three-thousand feet and leveled off, heading northwest toward Washington D.C. When they got in close enough to the nation’s capital, they’d have to switch the lights on to avoid looking suspicious.

Would Gustafson report the heli stolen? Maybe. Or maybe “the General” wouldn’t want the attention that would bring.

They flew onward toward the D.C. area, and Vince felt himself getting sleepy — when he’d been in the Rangers and Delta Force, he’d had to catnap on flights between missions, and he still had a tendency to go to sleep on a flight. Climbing the cliff and the intense action afterwards was hard work…

He heard Deirdre call out that she was going to reduce elevation near a cell tower so she could call Agent Chang. Vince nodded and slipped into sleep, almost immediately dreaming.

Chris was walking beside him through the Yucatan jungle, both of them in cammies, guns in hand, on mission. Tropical sunlight speared down through the trees. “You sure this is the life you want, Vince?” Chris asked.

“It’s all I’m good for,” Vince said. “Too damaged for anything else, man.”

“You can heal.”

“You can’t. You’re dead. I’m going to find the pricks who did it. Bosses didn’t want me to follow up on that mission. I had to walk away. But Angel Lopez is still out there, Chris. I’m gonna find the son of a bitch. I had to do this first — bury your hand, see your mom. Help your brother. Now I’ve got to finish it with the asshole who killed you. The asshole who kills people with heroin and meth every damn day…”

“It’s not all up to you, Vince…”

“No one else is taking Lopez down.”

Chris seemed suddenly taller than Vince. Till he realized that Chris was now floating a foot off the ground. He was still marching along, but in the air. Now he was three feet off the ground. Now he was floating upward and vanishing in the tree cover…

“Chris — where you going, brother?” Vince called, peering up through the trees.

“There’s got to be a better life for you out there, Vince,” came Chris’s voice from the air.

“It’s too late for me! You know how many men I killed today? I’m going to be on the run… May as well do some good while I’m out there…”

“You don’t have to do this, Vince…”

“Vince!” It was Deirdre’s voice, shouting from the front of the heli.

He opened his eyes, sat up, and looked around. The jungle was still there — but fading now. And gone. He was in the helicopter heading for D.C.

“Whoa, fell asleep…” He got up and went to sit beside her. “What’s up?”

“I called Agent Chang. I got through this time. But he’s in hiding. The Attorney General seems to be targeting him and me both!”

Vince snorted. “The AG? Dawson? I’ve heard stories about that guy. I didn’t think he was this deep into it…”

“Richie found some connections between him and Gustafson.”

“Richie?”

“Agent Chang. Whom you’re going to meet in about half an hour.”

“Where? We can’t just land at any airport in a stolen heli…”

“There’s a small airport south of town. Anyway, it used to be an airport. It’s just a lot of weedy concrete now, I guess. It’s in an industrial district and there’s no one around out there tonight. He’s going to meet us there.”

“You sure we can trust this guy?”

“Richie? Absolutely. I’ve known him since the academy. Worked closely with him on two seriously fucked-up assignments. That’s where you get to know if you can trust a guy.”

Vince nodded. “Yes, it is.”

“I’m trying to decide who I should radio about the attack tomorrow. Let them know there’s a domestic terrorism strike. Chang says I’m persona non grata in the Bureau right now. There’s some guy named Aaron Stigler — new administrator in the Georgia FBI offices.