Alex (In the Company of Snipers) (13 page)

“Push it down. The red dot means the safety is off. Think of it this way, when the safety is off, the gun is red hot, ready to fire.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “Red means fire.”

“Then do it,” he ordered sternly. “Push it down.”

She flicked the safety off with her thumb, but her hands were shaking so hard he knew he was going about this all wrong. Whisper and Smoke stood watching the lesson with bright, black eyes, and for a moment he considered sending them to search out Durrant and whoever else might be hiding in the trees. He didn’t. He needed them to stick with Kelsey, just in case the unthinkable happened. All the worst-case scenarios plagued him.
What if Durrant had company with him today? What if Durrant was better than he thought? What if the dumb bastard just plain got off a lucky shot?

“Okay, now. Pull the slide back, all the way.” He showed her where to grasp the top of the gun in order to rack the slide. “Good. That puts a round in the chamber. A round is a bullet. You’re ready to shoot, okay?”

“Not really,” she murmured.

He closed his eyes and breathed in the warmth and scent of her. Ahh. Everything about this gentle soul reached straight to his groin, but holding her like this messed with his head and he needed to be sharp. He took a step back, removed the weapon from her still shaking hands, returned it to safety, and stuck it back in his holster. This was his stupidest idea ever. There was no way this woman could kill another person. She was a lamb caught between two wolves.

“You have to be able to take care of yourself,” he stressed angrily. “What if something happens to me? What if I have to leave, and you’re alone?”

“But I don’t want you to leave me,” she whispered.

That lovely truth fell soft and sweet between them. Alex stared at what she had just said. Damn it anyway, she had taken the words straight out of his heart. He didn’t want her to leave him either. No, he wanted to hear her laugh again, and maybe tell his goofy dogs goodnight. Heck – he wanted her to tell him goodnight, and not from the other room either.

The last of his resolve evaporated. He pulled her into his side with a trembling sigh. She stilled against him. All he felt was the hammering of her heart as she rested her head on his chest, her hands gentle on his ribs. He wrapped his arms around her and sighed. This was what he wanted. Even in this moment when she was still a murderer’s wife, he knew she belonged with him.

“I won’t leave you, Kelsey,” he said quietly as he cupped the back of her head. “Don’t be scared. I’m here.”

She didn’t have to answer. The way her body conformed to his told him everything. They stood quietly for a few minutes before he untangled his arms and stepped back, trying to regain his composure. “We have to get going.”

For a while, they hiked a little quicker, and the dogs stayed close. It was slower going than Alex preferred, but they moved steadily toward the road.

“How’s your foot?”

“It’s fine,” Kelsey answered breathlessly. “It doesn’t hurt. Honest.”

“Let me know if you need to rest.” He glimpsed a movement to their right, but it was quite a ways off. Could Durrant have someone else helping him?

They hiked steadily for another hour until a low branch caught her foot, and Kelsey stumbled. Alex caught her by the elbow. “You’d make a pretty good soldier,” he said quietly.

“I think the pink shirt gives me the real military look,” she teased.

Alex cocked an eyebrow and smiled. He couldn’t help it. The lady was out of breath, in danger, and still she cracked a joke.

“Last rest stop.” He selected a fallen log for them to crouch beside. “Here. Carry this.” He handed her the pistol again. This time, she took it with the tiniest shred of confidence.

“I hope I don’t have to use it.” She set it gingerly on the ground beside her, the safety still on.

“Me, too.” He retrieved his range finder from his backpack for another look at their surroundings. If Durrant was in the forest today, he was acting like a real hunter, and that was cause for concern. Alex couldn’t detect anything or anyone until both dogs gave a small whine of alert, their ears pitched forward as they faced back toward the cabin.
Where the hell are you, you bastard?

He scanned in the direction the dogs faced. Finally, he caught a glint of gunmetal. There he was. Durrant lay flat to the ground beneath a low growth of dense pine branches, nearly one hundred percent concealed in the shadowy boughs. The man still carried his thirty-thirty only now it balanced on a tripod and sported a high-powered scope. And it was aimed directly at Alex.

He studied the assassin, two predators finally eye to eye. Durrant’s concealment was actually an excellent sniper hide. Alex gauged the distance. Six hundred yards give or take a foot or two. The scope brought Durrant close. Too close. Silently, Alex traded his rangefinder for his rifle, and secured it into his shoulder.
Two can play this game. How about I put a round right down that fancy scope of yours and straight into your head, you sonofabitch?

The shot was easy. Durrant didn’t stand a chance. Kelsey wouldn’t know until the man who hunted her was dead. Alex pressed his finger to the trigger, applied just the right amount of pressure, and—

“Ouch!” She jumped up from the log. “Something bit me.” She twisted around to look at her backside.

“Get down!” Alex jumped up to cover her. He almost had hold of her when he heard the far off crack of a center-fire round expelled from its chamber. With blinding heat, the bullet rifled through his left shoulder, exiting just beneath his collarbone and pushing him forward. He gasped. A startling spray of blood splashed across her shocked face as he collapsed onto her. He fell to his hands and knees, his forehead pressed into the dirt. It happened so fast. The dogs erupted in lethal fury as they charged back into the trees. He tried to call them back, but Whisper and Smoke were past the point of hearing.

“Kelsey,” he groaned. “Rrrr-uuu-nnn!

Nine

Kelsey

She didn’t run.

Kelsey stared dumbfounded back into the trees, her eyes locked across the distance with a face from her past. Nick had scrambled out from under the branches, his rifle in his shoulder, and ready to fire again. She waited for the shot. It never came, or if it did, she never heard it. In between the rifle shot and Alex’s cry, every repressed memory poured back into her mind like a noisy flood in an eight-ounce cup.

He had taken her for a ride in his diesel, supposedly to retrieve the boys from his mothers. That’s when he told her. She felt the stinging pain of Nick’s fist on her cheekbone as if it had just happened all over again. It felt so real that she touched her cheek, half expecting bruised skin and blood beneath her fingertips. She saw his top lip curled with sadistic pleasure when he’d said he had drowned her babies, how he had to tape their mouths so he didn’t have to hear them cry. They weren’t at his mother’s. By the time Nick started telling her his lies, her boys were already gone.

He killed my boys.

She saw the sweat at his throat and the leer on his face. His eyes had glittered like a deranged animal, and she had fought back. She had dug her nails into his cheek, all her fury unleashed, but it wasn’t enough. He slammed her face into the dashboard, so she made the only choice she could. She pulled the handle on the truck door and flung herself out—away from him forever.

He killed my boys.

The shock of asphalt against her knees grated again. Her shoulders, arms, and elbows burned where they had been shredded. She remembered her three-point landing and the bittersweet thought that her dead son’s hero, Spiderman, would have been proud. But Nick had turned that smelly diesel truck around, grinding the gears as he faced her again. He would have run her down if she had stayed. So she ran into the forest and unknowingly to Alex.

He killed my boys.

She clutched Alex’s pistol as her history assaulted her all over again. As quickly as she remembered, she knew exactly what she was going to do. Yes, she might share this monster’s name, but she was also the woman he had beaten. Most importantly, she was Tommy and Jackie’s mother. She would gladly have died for them, and now—she would kill for them.

He killed my boys!

She watched in a trance. The dogs roared over Nick like a throw rug tossed in the wind. His rifle flew over his head when Whisper hit him. Nick tried to deflect the big dog’s teeth with his arms, but he never stood a chance against the trained predator. He fell backwards in a flurry of black fury that was quickly joined by silver, Smoke’s saliva frothed jaws clamped alongside Whisper’s on their quarry’s neck. Within seconds, Nick was subdued, crying, and whining. The dogs stood hunched over him, their jaws locked, eyeing Kelsey for their next command.

She walked the distance to her ex-husband in a slow-motion dream. The pistol felt good in the palm of her hand, like it was nothing more than an extension of her fingers and her will. Alex was right.
It’s not going to hurt you if you handle it right.

She stood over Nick. He seemed smaller than she remembered. She felt like she was a long ways off, as if she looked down at him from a very great height.
Imagine that. Nick Durrant’s nothing but a mean, pitiful little man.

She dropped her knee onto her husband’s scrawny chest, the weapon concealed at her side. She fully intended to handle it right.

“Whisper. Smoke. Off.” She used the words Alex used. The next step was easy because Nick never could keep his mouth shut.

“You bitch!” He started to push her off, but as quick as that, she shoved the gun barrel between his crooked teeth and over his tongue. The smell of his breath struck her nose with its stink. Yeah, this was the man she had married, all sweat, beer, and cigarette stench.

“You killed my boys,” she screamed so hard she spit in his face.

He gagged, his eyes wide with terror. Whisper and Smoke stood focused and ready to help. She pushed the gun in deeper. A trail of blood drizzled out of the side of his mouth as he tried to mumble words she didn’t care to hear.

“You murdered them.” In a bizarre, detached kind of feeling, she heard the shriek of a monster blast from her throat. It sounded demonic and strong, not hers at all. Between it and the thundering in her head, she gave into rage. She wasn’t timid, mousey little Kelsey anymore. Not today. No. She was the powerful one. Finally, she was strong enough to scare Nick Durrant for a change.

He tried to talk, but could only choke and gag—until something clicked in her hand. His eyes blinked wild and crazy then. His hands almost grabbed the gun, but terror kept his palms wide with submission, waving like stupid little flags at the side of his face like he would back up if he could. The bizarre pleasure of the moment did not escape her. It felt good to watch him squirming for his life.

She lowered her nose to his. Once again, the monster screamed out of her, “You killed my boys.”

The noise in her head drowned out her conscience and, along with it, the waiting dogs at her side. All she knew was Nick was going to die right here and now. She was the one. Yes. She, Mrs. Nick Durrant, was going to blow his head apart like a melon and watch it splatter into a million chunks. Then she was going to shoot him again—and again—and again!

The sweet faces of her dead sons came into her mind. Sparkling brown eyes smiled back at her with all their love.
My boys suffered.
She pushed the gun until Nick threw up in his mouth. Tears rolled down his face and neck. He writhed beneath her, but she knew what was really going on. Right about now he would start begging forgiveness. He would whine and cry, promise to never hit her again. What did he think? She was fool enough to believe him? The roar of insanity filled her mind.
No. Not today. Never, ever again

Another voice pierced the churning maelstrom. It was calm and deadly serious in the way of true strength. She recognized the virtue in its tone, but just as quickly ignored it.
No. I have work to do.

The voice persisted.

Kelsey glared over her shoulder, searching the trees for its source. She gasped to see Alex standing just yards away. Sweat and dirt covered his face. Blood saturated his shirt. For a split second, blue eyes penetrated the thunderstorm in her head. She saw his lips move, but it was too hard to listen. She turned back to finish the job.

“I hate you,” she screamed at Nick. She froze. Her plan was flawed. Why should he get to die so easily when her sons had suffered? Maybe there was a better way to do this. Maybe if she tilted this gun up just a little bit, the bullet wouldn’t go straight through right away. No. Maybe it would ping around inside his skull for a while.

Kelsey pushed down on the handle of the gun, which pushed the end of the barrel up into Nick’s palette. She wanted pain and a slow agonizing death—just like drowning. That’s what she wanted.
Yeah. This will work.

“How’s it feel?” she growled. Her hair flung over the two of them like a shroud, a death shroud. She liked that thought. She also like that his eyes bugged out of his red face, but the annoying voice spoiled the moment.

“What. Do. You. Want?” she screamed without turning around. It was Alex. She knew what he wanted. The answer was no.

“Kelsey.” His calm penetrated to her core. He couldn’t have hit her harder if he had used his fist. She froze. Time stopped. Kelsey glanced over her shoulder to see him more clearly.