Nelson Demille - The Lion's Game

"What the fuck are you doing? Just sit here."

"Where did you learn to swear like that?"

"I have never sworn so much in my life till I met you."

"Really?"

"Sit and shut up."

"Okay."

So, we sat there, oozing blood, but not enough to attract sharks, or whatever they had around there. Asad Khalil was strangely quiet and I was getting nervous about what he was up to. I mean, the asshole could be twenty feet away, slithering through the bush.

I said, "I'm going to fire a few shots in the air to attract attention and to keep Khalil away."

"No. If you attract some Secret Service people here, Khalil will pick them off. I don't want that on my conscience. We're not in any danger. Just sit."

I wasn't sure that we weren't in any danger, but the rest of it made sense. So, John Corey, man of action, just sat. After a minute, I said, "Maybe I can attract Ted's attention, then he and Khalil can have a shooting contest."

"Sit and be quiet. Listen for any sounds in the bush."

"Good idea."

Kate shimmied out of her red jacket, which was nearly the same color as the blood that soaked it. She tied the sleeves around her waist, fashioning a pressure tourniquet over the wounds.

Kate reached into one of her jacket pockets and said, "I'll call the Sea Scape Motel and advise them of our situation so they can alert the Secret Service here and…"

She kept searching through her pockets, then said, "I can't find my cell phone."

Uh-oh.

We both felt around on the ground. Kate reached too far to her left side, and the ground exploded inches from her hand. She pulled her hand in, like she'd touched a hot stove, and stared at the back of it. She said, "My, God, I felt that round brush my knuckle… but… I'm not actually hit… I felt the heat or something…"

"The man can shoot. Meanwhile, where's the cell phone?"

She rummaged around her jacket and pants pockets again and announced, "It must have fallen out of my pocket when we were rolling. Damn it."

We both stared out at the brush-covered slope in front of us, but there was no way to know where the phone was, and for sure neither of us was going to go searching for it.

So, we sat there, listening for the sound of someone moving toward us. In a way, I hoped the bastard was coming for us because I knew he'd have to come around the boulder or over the top of it, and we'd hear him. I wanted at least one shot at him. But if he circled wide, we wouldn't see or hear him, and he had the rifle with the scope. I suddenly felt less safe on this side of the boulder, knowing that Khalil could be circling around into the bushes we'd just come from.

She said, "Sorry about the phone."

"Not your fault. I guess I should get a cell phone."

"Not a bad idea. I'll buy one for you."

A helicopter flew by, about a quarter mile away, but he didn't see us, or sense us-or Khalil-with whatever sensing device he had. Neither did Khalil fire at him, which would have been an easy shot. This led me to believe that Asad Khalil was gone-or, Mr. Khalil was holding his fire because he really wanted me. Now there's an upsetting thought.

Anyway, I'd had enough of this bullshit. I got out of my jacket, and before Kate could stop me, I stood quickly and waved the jacket to my side, like a matador messing around with the bull's horns. Unlike a matador, however, I got rid of the jacket real quick as I ducked behind the boulder, just in time to hear the little buzz that ventilated the jacket and snapped some branches off to our side.

Before Kate could yell at me, I said, "I think he's still in the treeline."

"And how do you know that?"

"The shot came from that direction. I could tell by the buzzing and the impact, and there was a half-second delay, like he was still a hundred yards away."

"Are you making this up?"

"Sort of."

Well, back to the game of nerves. Just when I thought Khalil was winning, Mr. Steely Assassin became frustrated and started shooting again. The prick was amusing himself by firing chip shots across the top of the boulder and shards of stone were spraying into the air, and falling down on us.

He fired a full magazine, then reloaded and began firing on either side of the boulder so that the strike of the rounds was just inches from our tucked-up legs. I watched, fascinated, as the pebbly earth exploded into little craters.

I said to Kate, "This guy is an asshole."

She didn't reply, mesmerized by the flying dirt around us.

Khalil then shifted his aim closer to the sides of the boulder, and the guy was good, just skimming the sides inches from our shoulders. The boulder was getting a little smaller. I said to Kate, "Where'd he learn to shoot like that?"

She replied, "If I had a rifle, I'd show him how to shoot." She added, "If I'd had a vest, I wouldn't be bleeding."

"Remember that for next time." I took her hand and squeezed it. "How you doing?"

"Okay… it's hurting like hell now."

"Hang in there. He'll get tired of playing with his gun."

She asked me, "How are you?"

"I have a new wound to show the girls."

"How'd you like another one?"

I squeezed her hand again and said, stupidly, "His and her wounds."

"That's not even funny. This fucking thing is throbbing."

I untied her jacket, put my hand around her back, and gently felt the exit wound.

She let out a cry of pain.

I said, "It's starting to clot. Try not to move and break the clot. Keep holding the entry wound with the handkerchief."

"I know, I know, I know. God, this hurts."

"I know." Been there, done that. I retied the jacket around her waist.

Khalil had another idea and started firing at the smaller rocks around us, causing ricochets, like a pool player trying to make a shot from behind the eight ball. The rocks were sandstone, and most of them shattered, but now and then Khalil got his ricochet, and one of the rounds actually struck the boulder above my head. I said to Kate, "Tuck your head and face between your legs." I added, "Persistent little bastard, isn't he?"

She tucked her head between her knees and said, "He really doesn't like you, John. You've inspired him to new levels of creativity."

"I do that to people."

All of a sudden, I felt a sharp pain in my right thigh, and I realized he'd gotten me with a ricochet. "Damn!"

"What's the matter?"

I felt where the hot round had hit me and discovered a tear in my pants and a rip in my flesh. I felt around the ground near my thigh and found the still-warm distorted bullet, which I held up. "Seven point six-two millimeter, steel jacketed, military round, probably from an M-14 modified as a sniper rifle with interchangeable night and day scopes, plus silencer and flash suppressor. Just like the one Gene had."

"Who gives a shit?"

"Just making conversation." I added, "Also, just like the one Ted had."

We let that sit awhile, putting some silly thoughts out of our minds. I added, "Of course, the M-14 is a fairly common Army surplus rifle, and I didn't mean to suggest anything by mentioning that Ted happened to have one."

Finally, Kate said, "He could have killed us at the VORTAC station."

To continue the paranoid moment, I pointed out, "He wouldn't whack us so close to where Gene dropped us off to meet him."

She didn't reply.

Of course, I didn't really think it was Ted who was trying to kill us. Ted wouldn't do that. Ted wanted to come to our wedding. Right? But you never know. I put the spent bullet in my pocket.

We sat there for a quiet five minutes, and I figured-whoever he was-he was gone, but I had no intention of finding out for sure.

I could hear helicopters circling in the distance and hoped that eventually one of them would see us.

Despite the pain in my pelvis, I was starting to drift off. I was totally exhausted and also dehydrated, so I thought I was getting delirious when I heard a phone ring. I opened my eyes. "What the hell…?"