Catherine Coulter - Backfire

He heard Dr. Chu say, “I need to speak to the police about the fire at the Fairmont today. I know what happened.”

Xu had no time for thought. He’d stepped into the small office, aimed his Beretta at Dr. Chu, who heard him and looked up and threw the phone at him as Xu pulled the trigger. Xu watched him slide down behind his desk. He heard a voice on the phone saying, “Sir, who is this? What do you want again? You said you knew about the Fairmont fire?”

Xu hung up the phone, took some antibiotics and oxycodone, and walked out of the clinic.

It was too bad about Dr. Chu. Xu appreciated what the doctor had done for him. The doctor was collateral damage, and he’d still be alive if he’d had better judgment.

The FBI knew who he was and knew what he looked like; they had to, since they’d found him, probably through Cindy. He’d been too late after all. His passport and his visa were useless to him, but he knew where he could get others. At least they didn’t have a clue where he was now or where he was going to be soon enough. It was then he realized, paralyzed for a moment, that neither did he. He’d dumped the white Infiniti on one of Sausalito’s curving streets and hot-wired a dark blue Honda parked nearby. He should have gone farther away to find a car, but he’d simply been too weak.

Xu pulled the cheap motel blanket up to his neck, settled his wounded arm on one of the skinny pillows. First he had to heal. He could hardly fly to Beijing into the arms of the Chinese, not now, even if a false passport got him through customs. The Chinese would sever all connections with him now and deny he ever existed, no matter how valuable the information he’d gotten them from Lindy’s computer. They might even kill him if they could.

Xu forced himself to lie perfectly still on the rock-hard mattress, yet the pain in his arm continued to drum a steady tattoo. He wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, but the instant he closed his eyes, he was back at the Fairmont, watching each and every scene play through slowly. So be it. He examined each decision he’d made, an exercise his trainers had taught him early on. He thought of the flash-bang he’d long carried with him. He’d never really believed he’d need it, but his training had always pushed precaution, and that piece of insurance had paid off in spades. It had been a while since he’d used one, but he hadn’t forgotten. That and the bomb he’d set up in his room had saved his life.

Should he have gone out the hotel through the back service entrance? No, there would have been FBI agents out there waiting for him, away from the crowds. He’d done the right thing there, too, getting whole-hide out of the lobby by mixing with the tourists who were running around like berserkers after he blew up his little surprise.

He let himself relive the awful pain he’d felt crashing down to the sidewalk when the FBI agent had tackled him and smashed her fist against his wounded arm. He felt again the humiliation and panic when she’d snapped the cuff on his right wrist and began reciting his rights to him, close to his ear, the bitch.

Even after all his training, perhaps because of it, there’d been no way he could have foreseen that agent chasing him down. It wasn’t just any damned FBI agent, no, it was a woman, and it shouldn’t have happened, wouldn’t have happened if he’d been whole. He should have turned to face her, used his training to snap her skinny neck or his Beretta to shoot her dead, before she’d gotten him down.

A woman bested me. He looked down at the handcuff that still circled his right wrist. How to get the damned thing off? It would have to wait. He’d figure something out, he always did.

And someone had shot the bitch. It had looked to Xu like she was dead, a shot through the head, but of course he hadn’t checked, just shoved her off him and run.

Who was he? Was it the same idiot who had shot Judge Hunt at the wrong moment and blown the Cahills’ trial apart? Had he shot the agent purposefully to save Xu? Why?

Who was he?

When the knock came on the door of his motel room, Xu grabbed his gun, gasped at the rip of pain through his arm, and shouted, “Go away!”

Another knock.

Xu raised his Beretta, aimed it at the motel door. “Who is it?”

A hard rasping smoker’s voice called out, “I’m the one who saved your bacon.”

Xu stared at the man standing in front of him, his back to the motel door. He was wearing a Giants baseball cap, sunglasses, a loose blue Windbreaker, jeans, sneakers, and gloves. He smiled at Xu, not moving since Xu’s Beretta was steady on his chest.

“Who are you?”

“I already told you, I’m the one who saved your bacon. Good thing I followed you here from that doctor’s office in Sausalito, since it looks like you’re going to need some more saving.”

“How did you find me?”

“Well, now, I’ve got to admit I had a bit of luck there. My car was near that white Infiniti you stole-nice job, incidentally, yanking that guy right out, no muss, no fuss, and you were out of there. I lost you for a while because of all that snarled traffic you caused at the Fairmont, but then I thought about it and decided you’d probably headed to the Golden Gate, so I did, too. And there you were ahead of me, going through the tollbooth. I followed you off at Spencer Avenue, watched you leave the Infiniti and steal the blue Honda. Then I sat back and waited for you just down the block from that doctor’s office.

“Yeah, I heard the gunshot. You killed the guy. Why? He saved your bacon, too.”

Xu’s arm hurt from holding the Beretta steady, but it didn’t matter. The Beretta didn’t move. “I overheard the moron calling the cops. I had no choice.”

“Good to know you don’t just go around shooting folk for no reason.”

“No,” Xu said, “there’s always a reason. Then you followed me here?”

“Sure, not a problem. I was surprised you made it so far the way you were driving. Gotta say, you sure don’t look so hot. You’ve still got some blood on your face from when that agent planted you on the sidewalk.”

There was blood on his face? What did this guy want? Xu said slowly, “But that was yesterday afternoon. Why did you wait until today to knock on my door?”

The man said matter-of-factly, “The Feds might have been following you or you might have had some other help coming. I had to wait, seeing as how I’m not too fond of the cops myself. You know, there’s a chance the clerk in the dinky motel office might have seen the blood on your face, and if he did, he must have wondered. Surely he wondered. If he sees your photo on TV, he’ll know.”

“Nah, the kid doesn’t know anything; he was too busy playing video games when I checked in. I don’t even remember a TV.”

“Like I said, you don’t look too hot. Do you want another pain med? Once we get you feeling better, we can decide where to go. Look, if I’d wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have shot that agent off your back. I’m not here to hurt you. You’re already in bad shape. I’m here to help you. Stop pointing that ridiculous gun at me.”

Xu ground out the words “Why would you care?”

“I’m thinking we’re a lot alike.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Nah, I kill because I want to, and you kill because you have to. See? Not so different.”

Xu stared at the guy for a long time, and nodded. “The pills are on the night table.”

The guy shook two pills out onto his gloved palm, handed them to Xu, waited until he swallowed them, and gave him a glass of water.