Chasing Shadows (27 page)

CHAPTER 41

KC tried the landline.  The phone was dead.  She grabbed her coat and the second Glock, then spotted Jay's phone shoved down into the Barcalounger.  She tugged the phone from its position wedged between the seat cushion and arm, dialing Glenn's number as she ran out to the carport.  

Her transportation options were limited: Jay's mountain bike or Chase's motorcycle.  She straddled the Harley and saw that he'd left the keys in the ignition.  Of course he had—this was Coalton.  No crime here—at least none not sanctioned by Gianotti.

  "Glenn, it's KC," her words came with a rush as soon as he answered the phone, "tell everyone to standby, I repeat standby."

"KC, what's wrong?  Where are you?  The party's getting started."

"Just listen to me.  They're going to double cross Gianotti and take everything.  Gianotti's kid is also there—Dinkum has him as a hostage."

"Damn, it.  We're not set up for that kind of deal.  Someone's gonna get hurt out there."

"Not if I have anything to do with it.  Pass the word, no action until I say so.  We've got to get Westin and the kid clear."

"I hear you, KC, but we can't let The Crusade get their hands on those weapons."

"I know, I know, I'm working on it."  

She started the motorcycle and roared down the street, praying she wouldn't be too late.  And that she could come up with a plan in the few minutes it would take her to get to the school.

"What's the meaning of this?" Bruno Gianotti demanded when he saw Neil in the SUV.  His baleful gaze fell on Chase, who stood beside the open doorway.  

"You'll pay for this, Westin."

"Wasn't my idea," Chase told him.

"I don't care whose idea it was," Bruno snapped, gesturing at his driver to start the moving van.  Deacon pulled up in his truck with two more men, sauntered around to the front of the Blazer, but Bruno ignored him, still focusing on Chase.  "You watch out for family—doesn't matter who you're working for or how much money is at stake."  

He strode over to where Deacon lounged against the hood of the SUV.  "Deal's off, keep your money.  Neil, get out of there, we're going home."

Chase herded Neil from the Blazer, kept one hand on the kid's shoulder so that he could shove him out of the line of fire if things went bad. 
If?
  When was more like it.  

Who was he fooling?  Things had pretty much already gone to hell in a hand grenade.  This was merely the countdown before the detonation.  

Then he heard the familiar sound of a Harley speeding down the road toward them.

"I don't think so," Deacon drawled.  He nodded to Redman who drew his gun and leveled it at Neil.  The rest of the men also raised their weapons, aiming at Bruno.  

Bruno smiled.  "If that's how you want to play it, fine by me." 

The side door of the moving van opened and four men armed with AK-47's jumped out, facing Deacon.

Before anyone could say anything more, KC and the Harley screamed into the cluster of heavily armed men.  

Everyone jumped back as she spun the bike in a tight circle and lay it down, jumping off it like a pro.  Chase used the distraction to nudge Neil away from Redman, to the rear of the SUV where he had more options for cover.

KC spun around, a Glock in each hand, her hair windblown, her face blazing with that fierce, defiant look Chase had first fallen in love with.  

"Stay here," he told Neil.  He edged toward KC, his HK in his hand.  

"I don't care who you are," KC told the men in a voice that was colder than the snow they stood in, "or what you're doing here.  All I want is him."  

She aimed her guns at Chase, one at his heart and one pointed at his groin.  The other men gaped at her, weapons forgotten as they watched her performance.

"You're not going to get away with it, Chase Westin," she yelled, fearlessly parting the Red Sea of armed men, focused totally on Chase as she strode toward him.  Chase played his role. 

"You're crazy!" he shouted back as he stepped forward to meet her challenge.  "I didn't give you anything you didn't ask for!"

They were almost together, where they could make a stand.  Chase saw no fear in KC's eyes, just determination and a tinge of regret.  

He understood—if only they had more time, time enough for him to explain everything, how he felt, the life he wanted with her, how much he regretted not trusting her sooner.  But time, it seemed, was the one thing they'd run out of.

Before he could reach her side, a man appeared at the edge of the basketball court.  Chase did a double take as he saw Lucky, a pair of oversized orange overalls flapping around his body, running through the gates.

Damnit, what else could go wrong?

CHAPTER 42

Lucky had planned on a more stealthy approach, but when the purple-haired girl drew her weapons on Chase and he saw the look in her eye that said she wasn't afraid to shoot, he knew he had to do something, even if it was only to provide a distraction so Chase could take her down.  

Then, together, they could deal with Deacon and Gianotti's men.

"Chase!" he shouted, drawing all eyes his way.  

To his surprise, Chase didn't take the opportunity to tackle the girl, instead he pivoted so that he and the girl stood back to back, facing the other men.  Suddenly Lucky was standing alone, in front of nine men with guns—all pointing at him.

"Take them all," Deacon said, shooting Gianotti at point blank range.

Lucky ran toward the SUV, the nearest cover, as the bullets began to fly.

"KC," he heard Chase shout, "he's one of ours." 

The girl hesitated for a split second, then she turned away from Chase, fired at one of Gianotti's men who was drawing a bead on Lucky.  

To his amazement, she hit the gunman twice in the ten ring.  She yelled something at Chase, but it was lost in the roar of gunfire.  Then she pivoted and plowed into Lucky, knocking him to the ground as bullets whizzed overhead.

"Neil, are you all right?" she asked the kid cowering beside Lucky.  

She didn't look back, her eyes were glued to potential targets.  By now everyone had taken cover under or behind one vehicle or the other, except for two unlucky men who lay motionless on the ground between.  No man's land.

"He's fine," Lucky answered after making a quick check to see if the kid was shot.  "Just scared.  That was nice shooting."

"That's what they pay me for."  

One of Gianotti's men leaned his head forward just a little too far, and she fired off two shots, the second one hitting home.  His body slumped forward, gun skidding across the icy pavement.  "Where the hell's Chase?"

"He ran inside, after Deacon."

She took a second to look over her shoulder at Lucky.  "You must be Cavanaugh.  ATF, right?"  He opened his mouth to answer, but she shook her head.  "Never mind.  Can you shoot?"

"Yes."

"Good.  Your job—your one and only job," she stressed, "is to take this gun and get this kid safely out of here."  

She handed Lucky a short-barreled Glock-27 and leaned forward so close he could see the menace in her eyes.  "You understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Go, I'll cover you."

"What about Chase?"

"I'll take care of Chase.  Now, go."  

She rolled out from behind the van, drawing fire from both camps as Lucky grabbed Neil's wrist, and they sprinted across the blacktop to the relative safety of a large dumpster.  They dove behind the smelly refuge, and he watched from beneath it as the girl zigzagged in a low crouch, taking Gianotti's last man down and ending up at the moving van filled with explosives.

She jumped inside the truck, ducking low as Redman took a potshot through the windshield, and started the engine, revving it loudly.  Lucky watched as she gunned the truck, aiming it like a juggernaut through the double doors leading into the gymnasium.

"Who is she?" he asked Neil as the doors exploded open in a crash and Deacon's remaining men swarmed inside after her.

"That's KC," the kid said in a stunned voice, his eyes fixed on one of the bodies in the basketball court, tears flowing freely.  Then he turned and looked at Lucky.  "Why?"

"I think I'm going to ask her to marry me," Lucky said.  

Chase saw Deacon turn tail and run into the gym as soon as he gave the order for the others to start shooting.  He ran after him.  

It wasn't what he'd originally planned, but it would work well enough.  Chase would bring Deacon in for questioning and by the time Rose Prospero was done with him, they'd know everything about The Crusade's plans.

He fired twice at Deacon's legs, couldn't believe his aim was off that badly, he didn't even hear the bullets hit the pavement.  He looked down at the HK.  

Blanks—someone had replaced his load with blanks.  He skidded into the gymnasium and heard the click of Deacon chambering a round.  Chase threw the useless gun to the ground in disgust and turned to face Deacon.

"What's the game?" he asked.  "You were going to use me as a fall guy."

Deacon nodded.  "Your town, your connection—keep any of Gianotti's friends off our back.  That was the plan." 

Chase’s shoulders tightened with fury.  Deacon clicked his tongue and shook his head in a silent warning as Chase took a step closer.  

"It's your own damn fault.  Messing with your brother's girl.  Fornicating.  That's not right.  Family comes first, Westin.  I tried to teach you, hell, even Gianotti tried to warn you, but you wouldn't listen."

Before Chase could make his move, the doors exploded, and a truck roared toward them.  

CHAPTER 43

Chase dove sideways as the van plowed through the doors, skidding to a halt with its front passenger tire mere inches away from his body.  Deacon seemed unperturbed, merely strolled to the front of the truck as KC emerged, Glock raised.

"Drop it," she shouted.

To Chase's amazement, Deacon smiled.  He pulled a small remote control car starter from his pocket.  "I don't think so, Sister.  Not unless you want hellfire and damnation to rain down on those innocent lambs across the street." 

Chase rolled to his feet as Redman and the other two ran inside.  

KC yelled down from her perch on the truck's running board, her gun never wavering, "Chase, is he bluffing?"

He thought before answering her question.  The Nativity scene—perfect place to hide a bomb.  Deacon knew bombs, had worked with Lucky on a few designs, designs that Chase and Lucky thought they could stop from ever being built.  

He looked over at Deacon.  There was true regret on the man's face.  He'd played poker with the man, Deacon never bluffed.

"No," he told her, raising his hands over his head and marching forward, escorted by two of his former comrades.

"Now be a good girl and give Brother Redman your gun," Deacon called to KC in a condescending tone of voice that Chase knew would have her temper sparking.  

He craned his head to give her a warning look.  Deacon would kill her if he had to, so no stupid heroics if she wanted to stay alive.  To his relief, KC frowned, then slowly handed her weapon to Redman.

Chase had to keep from rushing into a vainglorious suicide himself as Redman twisted KC's arm cruelly behind her, forcing her to her knees.  All eyes were on her and Redman.

"Bitch shot me!" Redman yelled, displaying a bloody upper arm to the others.  

He leveled his gun at her forehead.  KC looked over at Chase, her hands at the back of her neck just as his were, and in her eyes was a question.

Deacon stood at the edge of the small gathering, clearly enjoying himself.  He pocketed the remote but held onto his Beretta.  

"Do her now, if you want," he told Redman.  "But make it fast, time's awasting."

Redman's laugh echoed through the cavernous space.  "Yeah, I'm going to do her, right here, right now."  

Lucky watched as Redman and the others rushed inside, following the truck.  

"You stay here," he told Neil, then edged closer so that he could see and hear what was going on in the gymnasium.  

Where was the backup? Surely Rose Prospero had sent the girl to help him and Chase—why wasn't Rose or any of the others here?  Hell, he'd settle for a local yokel cop.

Then he heard Deacon's announcement about the bomb.  Maybe cops weren't a good idea right now.  He ran back to grab the kid.  

 "Come on," he told Neil.  "We've got work to do."

They raced down the drive and across the street to the churches where the Baby Jesus procession was now in full swing. 

"Who's in charge here?" 

"Reverend Holloway."  Neil pointed to a fat old man dressed in red and gold vestments.  

"Go get him, tell him to clear the area, there's a bomb.  Tell everyone!" Lucky shouted as he plowed through the crowd to the life-sized manager with its many possible hiding places for enough C4 to blow both churches to hell and back.

People began to screech and scatter as word of the bomb spread.  Adults ran forward to grab their children, children ran every way in confusion, some still singing "Away in a Manger".  

Lucky was fortunate he wasn't trampled in the melee.  He stumbled into the manger, overturning the paper-mache and plastic figures with his good arm.  Nothing.

Where'd you hide it, Deacon? 
Where it would do the most harm, of course.  It would be portable, easy to maneuver.  

Lucky's gaze darted around, ignoring the chaos before him, then zeroed in on a black Lincoln Town Car parked at the curb.  Shiny like it was just out of the carwash—or someone had buffed all the prints off it.  Exactly the kind of car no one would expect to house a bomb.

He sprinted to the car, crouched below it.  Damn, he hated it when he was right.  Wires to the ignition—if he started the car, it would blow.