Джеймс Паттерсон - Ambush

Just as she placed Bennett’s photo back in the folder on the cheap, shaky table, she heard the floor creak just outside the door.

She froze in place.

Then she heard the key slip into the lock.

The door started to open.

As the door swung open, Alex was ready. She stood in the corner of the main room, perfectly still. The gun she’d taken from the drawer was in her right hand. She watched as a man stepped into the apartment, but it wasn’t the person she was expecting. This man was too young and too tall. He had a little acne on his face and thick, curly hair.

He shut the door and tossed a plastic bag of groceries onto the kitchen counter. He walked across the room and flopped onto the leatherette couch, then clicked on the TV.

Alex knew she was stealthy, but this was ridiculous. All he had to do was turn his head a few degrees to the left and she’d be in plain view. Instead his eyes were glued straight ahead as she heard the ESPN intro music on the TV.

It was an odd feeling to be in a room with someone who had no idea you were there. It was almost like watching a movie. It was like some new, fantastic interactive television.

It sent an odd thrill through her, and she savored it for almost a full minute. The longer she waited, the greater the surprise. This man was clueless. It was embarrassing that he and his associates thought they could kill her.

Alex just watched the man until he unbuttoned his pants and started to slip his hand down them. Then she stepped away from the wall and said in a calm tone, “Who are you? Where is Willie?”

“Jesus Christ,” he shouted as he sprang to his feet and tried to close his pants. “Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?” Then recognition set in, and he said, “Oh, it’s you. Willie isn’t here.”

“Who are you?”

“His cousin Julio.”

“The driver he mentioned.” She thought about it for a moment and said, “When will Willie be home?”

Just as he started to answer, she raised the revolver and pointed it at his face. It had the effect she wanted.

Julio said, “He usually comes home in the afternoon about now. When I talked to him on the phone earlier, he said he’d be here.”

“Good boy. You’re using your head.”

“You’re not using yours. Willie is a really bad man. Everyone knows him. Everyone’s afraid of him. If you shoot me, he’ll know who did it.”

Alex said, “I hope so.” Then she fired once, striking Julio in the dead center of his chest. He took a slight step backward, then tumbled onto the couch. He let out a raspy breath and tried to say something. He never got it out.

His eyes didn’t close, even after his heart stopped. Those lifeless brown eyes seemed fixed on Alex.

She shook off the unnerving stare of the dead man and surveyed her work for a moment. She lifted his right leg onto the couch and crossed it over his left. She straightened his body against the pillow so that it looked like he was reclining on the couch.

Then Alex stepped back and looked at the room again. A plan popped into her head.

This could work out.

Alex Martinez could hear her second target trudging up the stairs and through the hallway for twenty seconds before he reached the door. She’d been sitting in the apartment with the dead man for almost a quarter of an hour. This came as a relief.

She stood behind the door when it swung open and immediately saw the heavily tattooed left arm of Willie Perez. He was chatting on the phone in Spanish.

“Yeah, baby. I know. No, you can’t come over here. My cousin wouldn’t like it. Okay, I’ll talk to him.”

Alex didn’t have to be a mind reader to tell what the conversation was about.

Willie called out to his cousin on the couch. From this angle, all he could see was the top of his cousin’s head and the TV playing in the background.

When he got no response, he called out louder, “Julio.”

Behind him, Alex said, “He’s not going to answer you.”

She couldn’t hide her smile when Willie flinched and spun around to see the barrel of a gun right in his face.

Willie said, “I guess you’re not here to pay me.”

“Do you really think you earned anything?”

Now Willie focused on the gun for a moment. He said, “Is that my revolver?”

“It is.”

While keeping the snub-nosed revolver pointed at Willie’s face, she used her left hand to pat down his waistband. She felt a gun hidden in his belt and pulled free a Taurus 9mm pistol.

She placed the revolver on the kitchen counter and pointed the newly acquired semiautomatic pistol at Willie’s head.

She backed him up past the couch so he could get a good look at his cousin.

Willie just stared at him.

Alex said, “A single gunshot in this neighborhood doesn’t draw any attention. I doubt your neighbors like you enough to call the cops if they heard a problem anyway.”

“You won’t get away with this.”

“Who’s going to catch me? The police? They’ll be glad you’re gone.”

Willie shook his head and said, “I knew you were trouble the first time I saw you. Who looks like you and then decides to kill people for a living? You’ve got something very wrong with you, lady.”

“The fact that you found it easier to kill me than the person I paid you to kill makes me question your judgment.”

“And what were we supposed to do about you killing Cesar in the hospital?”

“Which is why I have to do this today. I guarantee your friends on your crew will know exactly what happened.”

Willie nodded. “I can see your point. Perhaps we were out of line. Maybe we can work something out.”

Alex knew it would be easier if she were able to position him before she pulled the trigger. She needed him to move more to his right so he was in front of the couch, as though he and his cousin had had an argument face-to-face.

That was her mistake. She didn’t have her full focus on the killer in front of her. Instead she was thinking ahead.

As Willie shuffled away from her, he paused at the low coffee table between them.

Willie said, “Let me say one thing.”

As Alex said, “What’s that?” Willie kicked the coffee table hard into her shins, distracting her and making her lose her balance. He sprang across the space between them and wrapped a strong hand around her wrist so she couldn’t point the gun anywhere but straight up.

Most people would struggle against the power of his grip and try to get the hand free. Alex had too much training and experience for that. She lifted her knee and caught Willie on the thigh, making him step back.

He was strong and tough and jerked her along with him. Then he twisted, and they both tumbled onto the couch.

Alex found herself sandwiched between the dead man and the man trying to kill her.

They struggled on the couch as Willie used his size and strength to keep the pistol pointed away from him. Alex wished she could get to her stiletto, but she’d have to make do with just her fist for now.

She punched him once directly in the Adam’s apple. The shock and inability to breathe made him shrink back and ease his grip on her wrist. Her next blow was to his solar plexus, knocking out any wind he had left.

That sent him off Alex, and he struggled to stand up.

He took a few steps back and ended up in almost the exact spot Alex wanted. She was lying on top of his dead cousin. It didn’t line up any better than this. She fired once, and the bullet hit him in almost the same place where she had punched him.

He slapped both his hands over the wound in a futile effort to ease the pain and stem the bleeding. He stood staring at Alex, as if he couldn’t believe she’d do something like that in his own home.