F Wilson - Fatal Error

Eddie recoiled in shock and revulsion and lost his grip on the pistol. As it swung toward him he grabbed Fournier's wrist but that only slowed the angling of the muzzle toward his face. The pistol went off again and Eddie felt what seemed like a blast of compressed air against his right cheek as a bullet whizzed past.

And then the driver's window exploded inward as two shots sounded from outside the car. Fournier's left eye erupted in a gush of red and he released the pistol as his face slammed against the top of the front seat, then slid from view. Eddie dropped the pistol and fought back a surge of vomit.

"You all right?" Jack shouted through the shattered window as he tried to open Eddie's door. His voice seemed far away, distorted by a high-pitched whine.

"It's locked," Eddie managed. His own voice echoed in his head. "I can't open it."

Jack opened the driver's door and hit a button. The lock popped up. He threw the pistol onto the front seat, then opened Eddie's door, grabbed his upper arm, and yanked him out.

"Into the van! Move!"

Jack shoved him away from the car and retrieved Fournier's gun from the backseat, then raced ahead of him back to the van. Szeto was stirring, raising himself off the pavement onto his elbows. Jack jumped on his back and used him as a step into the van.

Eddie found his way to the passenger door and hauled himself inside. Jack was already in the driver's seat. He threw the van into gear and gunned it into motion. Eddie hadn't closed his door yet. He leaned out and lost lunch in one hot, acidic gush.

"Jack!" he gasped as he pulled the door shut and wiped his mouth. "What the-?"

"You do know you were on a one-way trip, don't you?"

Eddie hadn't realized it then, but no argument now. Clear as day. Two men killed, right before his eyes, their heads blown open just inches away. He couldn't stop shaking.

"Why me? What did I do?"

"You screwed up. You got in over your head. You played boy detective and got caught."

Boy detective… he used to make fun of Jack with that when they were kids.

"But how… how did you wind up here?"

"Long story. Can't talk now. Gotta get this crate off the road. Strap in and hang on."

As Eddie complied and Jack started driving like a maniac, he spotted Fournier's gun on the seat between them.

"What are you going to do with that?"

"Wipe it down and get rid of it. It's lousy with your prints."

Was it? Yes, he guessed it was. How had Jack even thought of that? His mind must click through details like He hung on as the truck made a wild swerve around a slowing car. This wasn't the Jack he'd known as a kid. This was someone else. Weezy had mentioned this side of him but Eddie hadn't understood. He did now.

After he'd put a few blocks between themselves and the shooting, Jack said, "Did you recognize the guy who got a faceful of door as the guy who called himself Garvey in Weezy's room at the hospital?"

"Yes. The other passenger-"

"Valez?"

"Yes." Was there anything Jack didn't know about this? "He said his name is Szeto. He's some kind of 'enforcer' for the Order."

"I believe it. He was carrying a Tokarev"-he pointed to the pistol between them-"just like this one."

"What's-?"

"A nine-millimeter pistol. Same kind carried by the guys who were gunning for Weezy last year. Now they're gunning for you."

"The Order wants me dead?" It was so unreal. Anyone wanting him dead was unreal. "It can't be."

"Get used to it. You must know something they don't want spread around."

"But I don't. All I did was say I'd help them find Weezy if they'd tell me why they were interested in her. You'll never guess who they brought me to."

"Drexler."

Eddie blinked. "Yes! How did-? Never mind."

He realized he'd have to stop being surprised by what Jack knew about all this.

"What did he tell you?"

"He said he didn't know but he'd find out."

"That's not enough to want you dead. Did you see or read or overhear something you shouldn't have?"

"No, I-wait. I overheard part of a conversation where 'jihad' was repeated a number of times."

"That could be it."

"It's just an Arabic word."

"The Order has had some dealings with Islamic nutcases in the past. Maybe they're dealing again. Weezy was uncovering the connection. That was why they were after her. This 'jihad' could be something new along that line or nothing." Jack glanced at him. "Do they know you know about this 'jihad' thing? I mean, you didn't ask Drexler what it meant, did you?"

"No." He hated to admit it… "But I did ask Fournier, the guy who was driving."

"Jeez, Eddie. How could you be so-?" He waved a hand. "Did he tell you?"

"No. But I guess he told Drexler."

"If that's it. Means nothing to me beyond holy war. But whether it's this 'jihad' or something else, the fact remains you've got to disappear."

"Disappear? How?"

"Fall off the radar. I assume you've got a savings or checking account?"

"Both."

"Good. Where?"

"Citi."

"First thing you do is empty them-almost empty them. Now. Use your Crackberry to find the nearest branch. I'll drop you there. While I'm hiding this van, you go to the nearest Duane's or department store and buy a duffel bag. You empty those accounts and put the money in the bag. I'll come by and pick you up and we'll start your disappearing act."

Eddie felt a surge of panic.

"But I've got a business-"

Jack gave him a hard look. "Your business or your life. Choose."

Eddie leaned back and stared through the windshield. He'd worked so hard to build up his actuarial business. Things were going so well. But none of that would matter if the Order caught up with him.

He pulled out his BlackBerry and hunted up a Citi branch.

Ernst stared at Szeto's swollen, bruised, stitched, bandaged face and shook his head in disgust. He wanted to scream but didn't want the Kickers wandering the Lodge's halls to hear.

"You have no idea who did this?"

"I had no chance. Door hit me in face before I get look at him. I see nothing after that."

"He took your pistol and used it to kill Fournier and Valez, then whisk Connell off to safety. Are you feeling a sense of deja vu?"

Szeto nodded. "Max and Josef."

Though not exactly the same-Max's pistol had been stolen but not used to kill either him or Josef-but both had died transporting another Connell… Edward's sister Louise.

Ernst steepled his fingers. "Do you think it's the same man?"

"I am sure. These Connells seem to have guardian angel."

"A deadly one." Ernst aimed a hard gaze at Szeto. "An angel with inside information."

Szeto frowned. "What do you mean?"

"How could he possibly know you were taking Connell anywhere? Connell had only minutes' warning that he was being picked up, no hint that he would be in danger, and even if so, no time to set up a tail."

"Only Fournier and I knew."

"And Fournier is conveniently dead."

Szeto's already swollen eyes narrowed further. "You can't think-"

"Odd, don't you think, that he would kill Valez and Fournier, but leave you alive?"

"I was down and no threat."

"Valez was no threat either."

"He might not have known that. You insult me."

Ernst had no doubts about Szeto's loyalty, but a hint that he might be under suspicion would keep him sharp.

"Just speculating. I am disturbed by someone's uncanny ability to be in the right place at the right time to rescue the Connell siblings. Could it have been the same man who abducted Valez?"

"Possible but not likely. If he wanted Valez dead, he could have killed him when he had him."

"Yes, I suppose that makes sense. But this incident… right on the street… you aren't a suspect?"