Дэвид Балдаччи - King and Maxwell

“If we work together,” said Sean. “We might make some progress.”

“But you said DHS had looped you in. So you’re working with them.”

“No. And we’ve been to see the FBI. And the president,” said Michelle. “And we decided not to work with any of them. At least not yet.”

Wingo looked shaky. “You met with the president? Over this?”

“Apparently on his big-item to-do list, you are at the numero uno spot,” said Michelle. “Congratulations.”

“Shit!” said Wingo, putting a hand over his eyes. “I can’t believe this is all actually happening.”

“Well, it is happening,” snapped Sean. “And we have to address it.”

“How?” asked Wingo. “What can you do?”

“Dad, they’re investigators. They used to be with the Secret Service. They’re really good. They can help.”

“I’m not sure anyone can help me, son.”

“So you’re just giving up?” said Michelle. “After dragging your butt back here from Afghanistan? You’re going to let them get away with it?”

Tyler angrily looked at her. “My dad is not a quitter.”

“I’m not saying he is or he isn’t, Tyler. But the real answer is up to him.”

Sean added, “We’ll help you, if you’ll let us.”

“Why?” asked Wingo. “Why open up a can of worms that isn’t your problem?”

“I think we’ve already made it our problem,” he answered. “And we can’t put our heads in the sand and hope it goes away. So the only way it gets resolved is to pool our resources and figure it out.”

Tyler took his father’s arm. “Come on, Dad. Do it.”

An instant later Michelle said in an urgent tone, “Someone’s coming.”

WINGO AND TYLER WENT LEFT.

Sean and Michelle darted right.

The block of men with guns came at them from east and west, converging on the four fleeing people. Yet Michelle’s keen hearing had given them a bit of a head start. Hopefully, it would be enough. Right now it looked too close to call.

Michelle pushed Sean ahead of her. “Take the next left down that path. It’ll take you to the truck. Get in, start it, and wait two minutes for me.”

“I’m not leaving you here to go against these guys alone, Michelle.”

“I’ve got the sniper rifle. Just be prepared to drive a lot faster out of here than you did getting here. Now go!”

“But–”

She gave him another hard shove. “Go!”

Sean sped down the path and turned left.

Michelle wheeled around, did a quick calculation of the terrain, and raced off to the right, taking up position behind a fallen tree. Using that as her cover and the trunk as the support for her weapon, she readied her rifle and set her crosshairs on the spot from where she believed they would be coming. She calmed her breathing, relaxed her muscles, and waited.

The first man veered into her line of fire and paid the price for that with a shot to the knee. He went down screaming and clutching at his ruptured joint.

Michelle immediately sprang up, ran to her right, and took up a new position at the confluence of two trees that were leaning against each other.

She readied her rifle and swung it across the terrain in front of her. They would be proceeding with caution now, she knew. She acquired the next target and fired before it could disappear on her.

The slug ripped into the man’s arm where he had left it exposed by a couple of inches. He dropped, gripping his limb, trying to stanch the blood flow.

Again Michelle moved as soon as she had fired. She was listening for the sound she needed to hear, so desperately wanted to hear. A few seconds later it came.

The sound of her Land Cruiser starting up.

That meant Sean at least had gotten to safety. Now she needed to get there, too. The next sound she heard was a bullet whistling past her head and blowing off a chunk of wood from the tree she was standing near. A piece of bark hit her in the head, and blood started flowing down her face. She staggered back, regrouped, took aim, and sprayed five shots across the field in front of her.

Another shot rang out and she watched in amazement as a man fell from a tree about fifty feet away from her. When he hit the ground his rifle flew from his hands, bounced along the dirt, and shattered against a tree.

She looked behind her from where the shot had come.

Sam Wingo was lowering his weapon. He locked gazes with her for a second.

She nodded in thanks and then Wingo was gone from her view. She had no idea where Tyler was. Maybe Wingo had gotten him to safety and then come back to help. Whatever the reason, Michelle was grateful.

Michelle wheeled around and sprinted flat-out toward the engine sounds of the Land Cruiser that she knew as well as she did her own name. When she broke into the clearing she saw a man lying facedown. For a moment she was paralyzed because she thought it was Sean. Then the Land Cruiser flew in reverse toward her and the passenger door was thrown open.

Sean yelled, “Get your butt in here!”

Michelle jumped in. Sean shifted to drive and mashed down the pedal. The truck flew forward, its back wheels slipping a bit in the dirt before gaining traction, and then they were racing down the road. When they hit asphalt again Sean looked at her and exclaimed, “You’re bleeding.”

“Thanks for noticing,” she replied. She reached down to the floorboard and picked out a tattered towel from the jungle of items and trash there. She rubbed the blood off.

“I doubt that’s clean,” he noted.

“I doubt I care,” she replied.

“Are you okay?”

She looked in the vanity mirror, moving her hair out of the way to reveal a cut along her scalp. “Just a shallow bleeder. Blowback from tree bark, not a bullet,” she added. She rummaged in the glove box, pulled out some antiseptic, sprayed it on the wound, and then covered it with a Band-Aid. She sat back against the seat and let out a long breath. “We just used up all of our nine lives back there.”

He nodded. “And lost Wingo and Tyler in the process. I hope to God they didn’t get killed or captured.” He suddenly slowed. “Do you think we should go back?”

“No. I think they got out okay.”

“How do you know?”

“He saved my life,” Michelle said quietly.

Sean shot her a glance. “Who did?”

“Sam Wingo. One of the guys after us got a sight line on me from a tree with a sniper rifle. Wingo got the kill shot on him before he could take me out.”

“Well, maybe he is on the right side after all.”

She glanced at him. “What about the guy back by the truck? What happened?”

“I figured they followed one of us here. Either us or Tyler. I didn’t think they would have gotten a lead on Wingo that fast. I assumed they’d station someone at the vehicle in case we got back to it. I took him out before he could take me out.”

“I didn’t hear a shot.”

“That’s because I hit him in the head with a rock.”

“You got close enough to do that?”

“No, I hit him from about thirty feet away.”

“With a rock?” she said in amazement.

“I never told you I was a pitcher in college?”

“No, you never did, Sean.”

“Well, it was good to see I still had some stuff.”

“What do we do now?”

“Our problem is I think they followed us to get to Wingo.”

“You think he thinks we did it on purpose?” she asked.

“No. Not with the other guy drawing down on you. And I heard other shots.”

“I got two of them. Non-kills, but they’ll be out of action for a while.”

“Then Wingo must know we were ambushed too,” Sean replied.

“Which still doesn’t answer my question. What now?”