Steve Hamilton - Ice Run

“My guess,” DeMarco said, “is that this gun right here has some special significance.”

Natalie was watching him handle the gun.

Look at me, I thought. Please, Natalie.

“It’s an old gun,” DeMarco said.

Look at me, Natalie.

“A Webley Bulldog. It’s a classic.”

Finally, she did. I gave her a quick smile. I raised one eyebrow. He’s out there, I said in my mind. Read my thoughts, Natalie. He’s out there. We have to be ready.

“I’m thinking this gun has to be at least seventy years old,” De-Marco said. “Maybe more. Hell, this gun is probably older than I am.”

I tried to put myself in Vinnie’s place. I’m outside, I see one man coming out. He’s the perimeter. Take him out if I can? Look in the window? Which would I do first? What do I do if I see Alex and Natalie in the room with these two men?

“In fact,” DeMarco said, “I’ll bet you that this gun belonged to Luc Reynaud. Am I right?”

A better question, what would Vinnie do if he looked in the window and saw the two guns lying on the table? Would he figure those were our only chance?

“If I had to guess,” DeMarco said, “I’d say that this was Luc Reynaud’s favorite gun, the gun he took with him everywhere. You had to watch out for yourself back then. Life on the border could get pretty dangerous.”

I have to get light on my feet, I thought. I have to be ready to react in a split second.

“You know what else? I think there’s a very good chance that this gun right here is the very same gun Luc Reynaud used to kill my father. Wouldn’t that be something?”

He put the gun on the table and spun it.

“I wonder if my father even saw it coming,” he said. “I wonder if Luc Reynaud looked him in the eye before he killed him and took all the money. Or if he just shot him in the back.”

The gun kept spinning.

“My grandfather didn’t do that,” Natalie said.

“Your grandfather was the only man who came back alive,” De-Marco said. “Except for the gangsters, of course.”

“They must have killed him,” Natalie said. “They killed him because he tried to do something stupid. Or because he was an ugly, evil snake, just like you.”

DeMarco smiled again. The gun spun slower and slower.

“Whatever I am,” he said, “your grandfather made me.”

“That’s a lie,” she said.

“Oh yes, Natalie. You know it’s true. It all goes back to Luc Reynaud.”

Okay, I thought. This is good. Everybody is looking at the spinning gun. The other gun, Natalie’s automatic, that’s closer to me. That’s the gun I have to go for.

The Bulldog came to a slow stop. The barrel was pointing right at DeMarco’s stomach.

“Let’s try that again,” he said. “This time for real. Did you ever play Spin the Bottle when you were a kid? Now we’re going to play Spin the Gun That Killed My Father in Cold Blood. Unless you’d care to tell me where that videotape is…”

Come on, Vinnie. Now would be a perfect time.

“Natalie? Mr. McKnight? Do you have anything to say?”

Right now, Vinnie. You have to be out there. You have to help us.

“All right, then,” DeMarco said. “Let’s see who gets it first.”

He spun the Bulldog.

This is it, Vinnie. With or without you, I’ve got to make my move.

Spinning.

DeMarco is focused on it. When I make my move, he’ll reach for that gun first. He has to.

Spinning.

No external safety on the Sig Sauer. Double-action trigger. Just grab it and fire.

Spinning.

I can do this. I am fast. I am lightning.

Spinning. It’s starting to slow down.

You’re an old man, DeMarco. No matter how many times you’ve had your face lifted, you still have old-man reflexes.

Spinning slower. Slower.

Everyone watching it spin.

Then a sound. Outside. A muffled shout.

DeMarco looking to his right, toward the door.

I explode. Over the table. DeMarco’s face, showing surprise. His right hand reaching out, first for the Bulldog, then the automatic, his fingers touching it.

But it’s mine. I take it from him in that hundredth of a second. I roll onto my back. I fire the gun. Once. Twice. Right over Natalie’s head. I hit the big man in the chest. He has no idea what has just happened to him. He’s looking down at his chest like somebody has just played a cruel joke on him.

DeMarco’s hands on my face now, digging at my eyes. I bring my arms back, two fists, two handcuffs still on the wrists, one gun. I hit him in the nose and feel it give. As I sit up, he’s already going down. The blood is already coming out.

“Natalie, you okay?”

“Yes,” she said. “Go!”

“Here,” I said. I slid the Bulldog to her. The man behind her had a hand on her shoulder. He was bending over like he had just dropped something. As he pulled his hand off her body, he folded up and collapsed.

I rolled off the table and ran to the door. As I put my shoulder into it and pushed it open, I ran right into Vinnie. He had a gun in his hand.

“Alex,” he said. “Are you all right? Where’s Natalie?”

“Inside,” I said. “Where’s the other man?”

I saw him before Vinnie could answer. He was on his hands and knees in the snow, almost blending in with his white camouflage.

“How’d you get his gun?” I said.

“It wasn’t easy,” Vinnie said. “This guy got Natalie before I could do anything. I didn’t have a weapon, Alex. Then you came later, from the other side. I was starting to think we had no hope.”

“How’d you know to follow her in the first place?”

“Come on,” he said. “She’s the worst liar I’ve ever seen.”

I was about to say something else. Then I saw the man in white going for his pant leg. I saw the ankle holster. I saw a flash of silver.

“Drop it!” I said.

But he was already swinging it. I shot him four times. I stayed there in my pose for a long time, the gun still pointed at the spot where he had been. Vinnie went over to him, leading with his gun. He took one look down at the man and relaxed.

“He’s done,” he said. “I wish he didn’t tie his hair back like that. It makes him look like an Indian.”

I let out a long breath. I had just killed two men. Six gunshots rang in my ears.

Then, from somewhere inside the house, we heard the seventh.

I rushed back inside, with Vinnie right behind me. Natalie stood with the Bulldog in her hands. DeMarco’s chair was tipped over. His body was still in it, as if he had sat back down before he died.

“Natalie.”

She didn’t look up.

“Natalie,” I said. “He went for your gun, right? You had to shoot him.”

She kept looking down at him. She didn’t move.

“Natalie, am I right?”

Nothing from her. Nothing.

I stepped up to her.

“Tell me,” I said. “He went for your gun. You had to shoot him.”

She finally moved. She looked at me.

“Yes,” she said. “He went for my gun. I had to shoot him.”

She looked back down at him. Natalie had shot her stepfather right between the eyes.

The sun came out on Valentine’s Day. I woke up early. The bright light on the snow didn’t make my head feel any better. It had been a long night at the Glasgow. I had sat with Jackie and Vinnie by the fire until it was time to close the place. Jackie had a few drinks. So did I. Vinnie had his usual 7 Up.

When I had said good night to him in the parking lot, Vinnie had told me he was already thinking about working on the cabin with me again, the one that had burned down. I told him I’d be ready as soon as the weather broke. I thanked him again for everything. I didn’t have to make a list for him. He knew what I was talking about.