Bullseye (18 page)

TWENTY-FOUR

“I
can’t believe you three are causing me to miss the biggest deal in two decades.”

Parker sat twisted around in the front passenger seat of the minivan, his service revolver lying casually across his lap, his glare fixed on Mason. For two cents and a plug nickel, Mason would have launched himself off of the bench seat toward the guy. What stopped him was the presence of a goon with the barrel of his rifle pointed at him, Karina and Caleb. And even worse, his fancy cell phone lay in the console between the driver and passenger seat, the power shut off.

Caleb broke his long silence with a question. “What’s so special about tonight? I’ll bet there’ve been a bunch of deals in the years you’ve been involved with Maddox in this gun scheme.”

A wide grin spread across Parker’s face. “Very good. You have a brain hiding somewhere beneath all that hair. Yes, I’ve seen my share of deals in the past
five
years.”

His gaze slid to Mason. Parker had been involved with Maddox since their first year on the force. Since before Margie’s death.

Acid surged into his throat. “You…” He thought of about a zillion unflattering terms, but hated to use them because Karina was in the car. “You were in cahoots with Maddox all along.”

Parker’s smile became frosty. “Very good, Mason. It only took you four years to figure that one out. Yes, I started working with Maddox a few months before Margie’s death. In fact, I met with him the morning she discovered the panel in the mirror.” The smile faded a fraction, and his eyes glazed. “I hated pulling the trigger, really. But it was my first job, my proving ground.”

Acid surged in Mason’s stomach, and his head went light. Parker, his own partner, had killed his wife? Bile threatened to choke him. Hatred swirled crimson in his brain. If he could lay hands on the guy…

A soft hand rested on his arm, and a heavy one on his shoulder. With an effort Mason pulled back from the abyss into which his thoughts had threatened to pull him. He placed a hand over Karina’s, and turned a grateful gaze over his shoulder toward Caleb.

Having delivered his blow, Parker turned around in the front seat and fell silent.

The van sped eastward, toward the dark, jagged horizon of the Sandia Mountains. They passed the exit for the Sandia Peak Tramway, and continued up the winding road into the foothills and beyond. Mason kept his gaze fixed outside, on the dark tree-lined landscape that sped past. Sometime during the drive Karina’s hand slid down his arm and her fingers entwined his. Behind him he heard the almost imperceptible drone of Caleb’s voice, and knew that the big man was praying. Though Mason had had no use for prayer in years, the thought comforted him.

After what seemed like hours in the silent van, the vehicle pulled off the pavement onto a dirt path. They bumped and jolted their way over a winding trail, dark trees looming over them. With every yard Mason’s hope dipped lower. They were so far away, how could anyone ever find them?

Finally the vehicle rolled to a stop.

“Well, here we are.” Parker’s voice held a fake light tone. “End of the line, folks. Everybody out.”

He exited the van and the side panel door slid open. For one second Mason considered rushing him, barreling out of the seat and bowling him over, gun or no gun. But the presence of the assault rifle aimed at the back of his head stopped him.

He climbed out of the van and turned to help Karina. Their feet crunched on dried leaves and twigs covering the soft ground.

Parker and the two armed men forced them to walk into the deep tree line. Mason went first, almost feeling his way in the darkness. His feet crashed through the upward sloping underbrush like a thunderstorm in the silent mountain air. It didn’t matter. There was nobody within miles to hear. He came upon a small clearing and stepped out of the darkness into a circle of moonlight.

“That’s far enough.” Parker’s voice preceded him from the cover of the forest.

Mason turned slowly, Karina and Caleb lining up beside him. The two goons took up stances on either side of Parker. Mason exchanged a glance with Caleb, and saw no hope in the big man’s face.

“So tell me what’s special about tonight.” Mason didn’t really give a flip, but the longer he kept Parker talking, the longer they lived.

Parker studied him for a moment. White moonlight turned his face deadly pale, like a zombie, but his eyes were shrouded in shadows. Finally he nodded. He slid his Glock back into its holster—what did he need it for, when the hoodlums on either side of him had AK-47s trained on their captives—and hooked his thumbs in his utility belt.

“Why not? You can’t stop it now. Maddox is selling out. Seems a few folks on the force have gotten a little too curious.” His lips thinned with a cold smile. “Yes, Graham was one. That’s why I had to take him out. I knew he was zeroing in on me. In fact, I’m pretty sure he was going to clue you in earlier this evening. Are you sure he didn’t mention me?”

Mason’s mouth went dry. So he hadn’t been the target after all. Graham had been. “No. He didn’t mention you.”

That took the wind out of Parker’s sails. He went still for a moment, but then recovered. “I must have gotten there just in time, then.”

Beside him Karina’s bare feet shuffled in the cold underbrush. Mason gave her a sympathetic look, but what could he do? They were all about to die in a few minutes.

Caleb’s head faced him. At this angle, moonlight illuminated his features. Mason’s gaze connected with his, and the guy’s eyebrows shrugged sideways.

What? What’s he trying to say?

He didn’t dare acknowledge, but blanked his expression. Again the eyebrows shrugged sideways, and this time Mason noticed a nearly imperceptible shrug of the massive shoulders in the direction of Parker. Caleb’s feet were turned at an unusual angle to his body, pointing toward their captors.

Realization dawned.

He wants to rush them
.

Was he crazy?

Mason’s thoughts whirled. He had to keep Parker talking while he considered Caleb’s silent suggestion.

“What about Grierson? Is he on to you, too?”

Parker laughed. “You tell me. Has he said anything to make you think so?”

Just a warning to get out of the apartment tonight
.

“No. I just wondered how much hot water you’re in.”

Parker’s weapon is holstered. If we time a rush just right, we might be able to knock those two off their feet before he can draw his pistol
.

“Oh, not much. I’ve worked for the guy for five years, and he’s never picked up on a thing. But you never know. Maddox says we’ve pushed our luck as far as we should. After tonight there won’t be any evidence left.”

Mason’s gaze connected with Caleb’s. He gave a very, very slight nod, and saw his friend’s lips curve into a grim smile.

Keep Parker talking.
“Why? What’s going on tonight? You leaving town or something?”

“Oh, no. No need for that. Maddox is getting out of the business. There’s a big deal going down. In fact, some very important people are in town from Mexico City.” He made a show of pushing the button on his watch to illuminate the face. “Right now, in fact, they’re at the old asylum, making the final trade. Remember that place?”

Mason knew it. A deserted insane asylum would be the perfect place for a deal like that to go down.

Parker continued. “Oh, I’m sure they’re going to try to convince Maddox to stay in operation. It’s been a lucrative business, after all. It paid off my house and built me a nice little nest egg that makes the police department’s retirement fund look like…” His head moved as his gaze circled the clearing. He smiled. “A pine needle in the forest.”

While Parker talked, Mason positioned his feet and shifted his weight for a quick take-off. He locked onto Caleb’s gaze in his peripheral vision, his eyes on their captors. When Parker’s head swept upward, the armed men on either side of him followed his gaze. Their heads both tilted upward. Just for a second, but that was all they needed.

Mason jerked his head, giving Caleb the signal. They both sprang forward. The big man flew across the small clearing with a speed that belied his size, and Mason did his best to keep up. Then he lost track of Caleb when his head crashed into the hard obstacle of an arm and a gun barrel. There was a disorienting moment when the man lost his balance and sprawled backward, and Mason almost went with him. But he regained his footing at the last moment, and instead of falling full-length on the man, he bent his leg. His knee landed with a sickening and satisfying thud in the man’s Adam’s apple. While his would-be attacker gasped for breath, Mason snatched the rifle out of his hands and in a single fluid gesture, whirled to point it toward Parker.

But he was too late. Parker’s instincts were at least as sharp as his. His former partner had not only unholstered his weapon, but he’d lunged forward and grabbed Karina as well. He stood with one arm across her throat, and the barrel of his Glock pistol pointed at her temple.

* * *

For one moment Karina thought she was going to die. She had been stunned into inactivity when both Caleb and Mason sprang forward. If she’d known, she would have moved at the same time. But by the time she realized, she was a fraction of a second too late. She tried to whirl and run, but her bare foot trod on something sharp, and the pain doubled her over. And then Parker’s arm was around her neck, and he jerked her upright. She felt the cold metal of his gun press against her temple.

He spun her around, where she came face to face with Mason and Caleb. Both had overpowered their men, and clutched rifles in their hands. Mason’s eyes were black orbs in his face. She saw Caleb’s lips move in a short prayer, and recognized the words.
Dear Jesus, help her.

Yes. Please!

She couldn’t put together a more eloquent prayer, because the gun pressed against her skull drove out coherent thought.

“Stupid move, Mason.”

Parker’s voice came from so close that she felt his breath on the crown of her head.

“We both know you’re not going to do anything to endanger the girl, so drop your weapons. Both of you.”

She stared at Mason, her eyes begging him to…what? What could he do, other than comply?

He reached the same conclusion. His features sagged with defeat and he lowered the weapon.

A chuckle vibrated through her skull from her captor’s throat. “I guess this is it, buddy. You should have stayed in Atlanta.”

The gun moved away from her head. It swung toward Mason.

No!

Gathering every ounce of strength she could muster, she jerked her head backward and upward. The crown of her skull connected with Parker’s chin. Not a stunning blow by any means, but she hoped to at least startle him. At the same moment, she swung her arm out and upward to connect with his. The gun jerked sideways at the same moment an angry curse sounded in her ears.

The weapon exploded. The sound rang in Karina’s skull, so loud that for a moment she couldn’t see. Then she found herself on the ground in a jumble of arms and legs and bodies. Mason had launched himself toward her, toward Parker, and the impact nearly knocked the breath from her lungs. Fists flew, and she curled herself up into a knot and rolled sideways, out of his way.

“Take that you, you wife killer.”

She opened her eyes in time to see Mason’s fist connect with Parker’s face two times, three, and the man fell back against the ground, unconscious. Relieved tears flooded her eyes. It was over. They’d won.

But then Mason uttered a cry that wrenched at her soul. She sat up as he half ran, half stumbled across the clearing toward Caleb.

The man with the ponytail and a heart of gold lay prone on the ground, blood seeping from a wound in his chest.

TWENTY-FIVE

N
o. This couldn’t happen. He couldn’t be the cause of two deaths in one night.

Mason fell to his knees beside his friend, searching his body for signs of movement. “Caleb! Are you alive?”

A frightening amount of blood saturated the front of his friend’s denim shirt, flowing from a bullet hole in the massive chest. Behind him he heard Karina’s approach, heard her choked voice whispering, “Please, God, save him. Please don’t let him die.”

Mason jerked Caleb’s collar away and placed a finger on the carotid artery. Was there a pulse?

Caleb’s eyes did not open, but he spoke. A weak, faint whisper that would have been frightening if Mason hadn’t been so glad to hear it. “I’m alive. Don’t you dare try mouth-to-mouth on me, Brother.”

Mason nearly collapsed with relief. He forced a laugh for the big man’s benefit. “Trust me, I don’t want that any more than you. Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” He gave a weak, shallow cough, and when he did the blood welled from his wound. “I know where I’m going, and who’s waiting there to welcome me home.”

The words slapped at Mason. “Don’t talk that way, okay? You just hang on, you hear? I’m going to get you out of here.”

Karina’s prayer gained volume, boosted by a soft sob. “Please, Lord, touch Your son right now. Don’t let him die, Father. He has more to do for You here.”

Mason left her beside him and ran across the clearing to Parker’s unconscious form. Radio, radio. Where was the police radio? He searched the utility belt but found nothing, not even a cell phone. Apparently Parker had removed his radio to do his dirty work.

Parker moaned, and his left hand twitched upward toward his rapidly swelling nose. In another few minutes he would regain full consciousness. Mason searched the heavy utility belt and found his cuffs. Roughly and unceremoniously, he shoved Parker over and cuffed his hands behind his back. There. That would slow him down, anyway. He scooped up the gun on his way to the first of the two thugs. Still unconscious, but for how long? A quick search of the men’s pockets revealed no cell phone, but something almost as good. The keys to the van.

He jerked upright. “Karina. Go to the car. Get my cell phone.”

He tossed the keys in her direction, and then returned to his task of securing all the weapons before any of their captives regained consciousness.

* * *

Karina’s bare feet pounded over the debris covering the forest floor. Brittle twigs poked into her arches, once so painfully that she cried out. The ground was cold, so cold, but she couldn’t think about that. The hillside sloped downward into impenetrable darkness. Her foot caught on a fallen branch and she went down on her hands and knees, her palms bruised and scraped. She prayed as she ran, but her prayers had been reduced to one single, urgent plea.

“Lord, please, please, don’t let him die.”

Even though she ran as fast as her bare feet and unfamiliar territory would allow, the journey to the van seemed to take three times longer than when they’d walked the other way. Had she taken a wrong turn? It would be easy to get lost in this pitch blackness. Surely she’d gone too far.

Finally she stumbled from the thick trees onto a dirt road. Panic threatened for a moment. Where was the van? But then her gaze fell on it, about a hundred feet to her right. She’d gone slightly wrong, but at least she’d found it.

The driver’s door was unlocked. No need for the key after all. She scooped up Mason’s cell phone from the center console, and examined the hillside down which she’d just run. Driving the van to Caleb would be impossible. The trees pressed too closely together. She’d have to return on foot.

Within seconds she was back in the forest, running up the side of the mountain as quickly as she could force her abused feet to go. On the way she fumbled with Mason’s phone, and finally pressed the right button on the thin edge. The power-on musical tone almost made her cry with relief.

She took a few precious seconds to stop for a frantic examination of the screen. The indicator was in the top left corner, just like her phone, and it showed full access.
Thank You, Lord!
After a few fumbling attempts she managed to find the previously dialed number, and punched it. Then she took off again, the phone held to her ear. When the line rang, the tone sounded loudly from the speaker. Apparently she’d pressed the speaker button by accident.

A sleepy male voice answered. “Dude, are you kidding? It’s five o’clock in the morning.”

“This isn’t dude, it’s me.” Her breath came heavy and fast, but not as fast as the adrenaline-fueled thoughts that zipped through her brain. With the huffing and puffing, this guy would probably think she was an obscene phone call if she didn’t talk fast.

“I’m Karina Guerrero, and I’m a friend of Mason’s. Caleb has been shot and he’s bleeding and talking about Heaven and we need help.” A sob choked off her rapid-fire monologue.

The voice on the other end became instantly alert. “Where are you?”

“We’re up in the Sandia Mountains outside of Albuquerque. A dirt road. We passed the tram on the way, but I don’t know where it is, or how far we went beyond it.”

A loud shuffling and the voice spoke urgently. “Caleb’s been shot. Start praying.”

“I have been,” she sobbed.

“That’s good,” the man said, “but I was talking to my wife. I’m going to my computer now, and it’ll just take a minute to track you. My name is Brent, by the way. And you’re Karina?”

“Yes.”

Her breath was starting to come hard in her chest with the effort of running uphill. Had she gone astray? Where was that clearing?

“Karina, you say Caleb’s been shot. Where? Is he conscious?”

A branch scraped across her face as she ran by, and she almost dropped the phone. “In the chest. He was conscious about ten minutes ago, but I had to get the phone to call you. He was bleeding a lot.”

“Is Mason okay?”

“Yes, but there were three men and they all had guns, and one’s a cop, and he’s back there with them.” She was handling this badly, but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t find them. Wait! What was that up ahead? A lighter spot in the darkness which might be the clearing.

“Oh, thank You, Lord.” She nearly sobbed with relief. “I found them.”

“All right. My computer’s up and I’m fixing on your location now.”

She crashed into the open to find Mason standing beside Caleb’s prone form, an assault rifle pointed at their three captors. Parker and one of the other men had awakened, and were sitting on the ground, watching him warily. She almost threw her arms around Mason in relief, but there was no time. Instead she told him, “I’ve got your friend in Atlanta on the phone.”

Mason expelled a breath, but the grim expression did not leave his face and his eyes did not flicker away from his charges even for a second. Karina dropped to her knees beside Caleb, frantically searching his body for movement.

His chest rose with a shallow breath.

“He’s still breathing,” she sobbed into the phone.

“Thank the Lord,” came Brent’s answer on the other end. “I’ve got a fix on you. I’m going to contact the police.”

Mason spoke up, the gun still trained on Parker. “Brent, it’s Mason. We need a medical chopper up here first. Caleb’s bad. And then contact the FBI. Tell them to get a team over to the deserted insane asylum on the corner of Edith and Osuna because there’s an illegal arms deal going down right now. If they’re quick they’re going to hook a couple of whales.”

Karina glanced at Parker, but then looked away quickly from the pure hatred she saw in his face.

They listened to the conversation as Brent, using another phone, relayed their location and the rest of the information to someone. Minutes passed. Caleb’s breathing continued to be shallow and rapid, and he did not open his eyes. Karina kept her hand on him, so if he was aware he would know he wasn’t alone. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she whispered the Psalm she would want to hear if she were in his place.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.”

Finally a sound reached the clearing. Faint at first but growing rapidly louder. It was a sound that made her want to weep with relief. The sound of an approaching helicopter.