Matt Hilton - Slash and burn

Larry smiled. He was in the clear: Huffman was unaware of the fates of his co-conspirators. Neither had the pilot filled Huffman in before he had brought down the helicopter. Larry wasn't averse to letting Hunter take the crap for all those deaths.

'I was trapped under wreckage when the bastard sent my truck into the restaurant. I was knocked out. When I woke up I was too late to save Aitken or the judge. By the time I got my act together, everyone had already gone. So I did what I thought best: I followed Hunter.'

'You followed him here?'

'Only as far as the airport, but then I got held up by a blizzard. But I guessed he'd be heading your way.'

'You're in Texas, then?'

'Just down the road a piece,' Larry said, not about to divulge his location just yet.

'That's great, Larry. I could do with you here with me. Hunter's around.'

'You know where?'

'No, but he can't be far away. Come in, Larry. Help me. I want a good man at my back.'

'What about those others you were bringing in?'

'Yes, they're all here. I called them back from Little Fork.' Huffman grunted. 'But forget them, Larry. You know you were always my favourite.'

But you didn't care for Trent, did you, you bastard? Larry thought.

'You still want to kill Joe Hunter, right?'

'I'll be there in a couple of hours, boss.'

'That's great, Larry, just great.'

Larry hung up.

Yeah, just great, he thought. But not for you, boss. If you get in the way, I'll kill you too.

The lake looked eternal, like it was a billion years old, but it had only been created back in the early 1980s. It got its name from the commissioner who'd backed the plan to bring water to the prairie: Ray Roberts himself. I'd never heard of the man, but he got my respect. The lake was beautiful. The water was very still, the surface almost glass-like and reflecting the cerulean heavens. Oak trees hugged the shore and birds called in the treetops. The water made a gentle lapping noise, which was soothing after all the mayhem.

It was a nice place for a couple to take a romantic stroll. I wondered what it would be like with Kate beside me. Except she was enduring hell as Huffman's captive.

I stuffed my hands in my jacket pockets, as I watched a couple of youths in a rowing boat. I could hear their laughter echoing across the water. I wondered if those two boys had the same strength of friendship that I shared with Rink and, increasingly, with Harvey Lucas. If one of them fell overboard, would the other dive in to save him? I decided he would. That's what people did for their friends. I returned to the cabin, determined to get started.

The evening sky had turned to molten brass. Rink had lit a lamp in the room. Plus, Harvey was back. Between them they were lugging a large wooden crate with a pack of supplies balanced on top that they dumped on the bed.

'I couldn't get us Dragunovs,' Harvey said, referring to the cream of sniper rifles, 'but these should suffice.'

He cracked open the lid of the box and I saw two US Army M24 bolt action sniper rifles. I eyed the guns with appreciation. The stocks were a Kevlar and graphite composite, and they were fitted with Leupold-Stewens M3 Ultra telescopic sights with built-in compensators for bullet drop. I was familiar with the US Army issue rifles and knew that they could be relied upon up to a range of approximately one thousand yards. They had an internal magazine that took five.308 Winchester rounds. Good guns in anyone's estimation.

'Suffice, my ass!' Rink lifted one of the M24s from the crate and snuggled the butt against his shoulder. He swung the rifle round and aimed at an imaginary target at the far end of the room. At that distance a steel-jacketed round would punch a hole through the wall and sail off across the lake and probably still kill a man on the far side. 'I prefer these to the Russian rifle, hands down.'

'You are good,' I told Harvey.

'Told you I was,' Harvey said, flashing white teeth. Then, growing more serious, he added, 'I've got these on loan, guys. I promised I'd return them after we're done. Anything happens to me, I need you to get them back to their rightful owner.' He named a sergeant from the Joint Reserve Base at Fort Worth.

'The JRB is a naval air station, isn't it? Why'd they need sniper rifles on a naval base?'

'The SEALS fly out of there sometimes,' Harvey said. That was all the clarification I needed.

Our next assault on Quicksilver Ranch would be like invading a fortified military base. We'd be outnumbered and outgunned. And we didn't have the luxury of a human shield the way Huffman did. So, it wasn't going to be a head-on attack. Stealth – and the long rifles – would be our greatest assets.

But it was looking like an almost impossible task.

Then serendipity struck.

The phone in my pocket vibrated.

I studied the screen before answering. It wasn't Imogen.

'That was some show you put on earlier,' Huffman said. 'I only wish I'd been there to see it.'

I flicked the phone on to speaker so that my friends could hear. They stood very still, not giving any hint that Huffman had an audience.

'I wish you'd been there, too,' I said. 'I'd have killed you and got things over with.'

'Ah, but that would've been a let-down, wouldn't it? Where's your sense of the dramatic, Hunter?'

'I'm not the type for dramatics. I just get the job done.'

'So you have Imogen Ballard?'

I didn't need to answer. He knew that I didn't have her.

'You do still want the lovely Kate back, don't you? She's a fine woman, that one. And loyal. Do you know what it took to force her to admit that you had her telephone, and then to give me the number?'

'If you've hurt her…'

Huffman laughed.

His voice growing a shade softer, he said, 'The sooner you bring Imogen to me, the sooner you get Kate back. That minimises the opportunity for Larry Bolan to harm her any more.'

'Larry Bolan?'

'Yes, my big friend is here. He hates you, you know. But that's understandable. After what you did to his little brother, he wants to eat your heart.'

'Trent was a psychopath.'

'Can't deny that. He was one crazy-eyed son of a bitch. But he was still Larry's little brother. You can't blame him for hurting Kate to get back at you.'

'If you want Imogen, you'll stop him, Huffman.'

'Larry's his own man in that respect, so you'd better just find Imogen.' All the fake joviality had disappeared from his voice now. 'You have until this time tomorrow night. Bring me Imogen, Hunter, or I'll be sending Kate back to you in little pieces.'

'Tomorrow night.'

I hung up. I didn't want to listen to the bastard's voice any more.

Rink and Harvey had remained silent throughout. Now they were all questions. Primarily why I hadn't told Huffman about Larry's part in the earlier gun battle.

'Huffman would've had him killed.'

'That's what we want,' Rink said. 'One less enemy.'

'What's more important to you, Hunter?' Harvey asked. 'Freeing Kate or getting your showdown with Bolan?'

I just looked at him, and he waved the question away.

'I didn't tell Huffman about Larry for a good reason. He was bluffing, Larry isn't hurting her. Don't forget – she's too valuable a hostage: it's Kate who's going to bring Imogen to him.'

'But why stay quiet about Bolan?' Rink asked.

'Huffman made a valid point. He said that Larry is his own man. What he hasn't realised is that Larry will put his own agenda first.' I smiled coldly. 'Whether he knows it or not, Larry's our ally behind enemy lines. All we have to do is figure out how best we can use him.'

'You think he'd bring Kate if you promised him a chance at you?' Harvey asked.

'No. Even supposing we could find a way to contact him, he'd only kill her. That'd guarantee him his chance more than anything.'