Patterson, James - Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

“John,” I called again. “If you can hear me, move something. Move a leg. John!”

Don't die on me. Not like this. Not now.

He didn't move, didn't respond. There was no sign that he was alive. He didn't shiver or twitch.

Nothing at all.

More rifle fire suddenly erupted from the woods, and I hugged the ground, digging my face into leaves and dirt.

I tried to put Sampson out of my mind. If I didn't, I would wind up dead. I had a terrible thought about John and Billie. Then I let it go. I had to. Otherwise, I'd die out here for sure.

Trouble was, I didn't see how I was going to out-maneuver three Army Rangers in the woods, especially on terrain they were familiar with. These were experienced combat veterans. So they wouldn't risk closing in on me right away. They'd wait until dark.

Not too long from now. Maybe a half-hour. Then I was going to die, wasn't I?

I lay behind a big hemlock, and a lot of disconnected thoughts shunted through my head. I thought about my kids, how unprepared I was to die, and how I would never see them again. I'd had so many warnings, so many close calls, but here I was.

I checked on Sampson again he still hadn't moved.

I raised my head a couple of times. Just for a second. I turkey-necked a look across the horizon.

There were no moving shadows in the woods. I knew they were there though, waiting me out. Three Army assassins. Led by Colonel Thomas Starkey.

They'd been here before; they were patient as death itself.

They had killed a lot of people. In the Army. And out of it.

I thought of something Sampson had said before he went to help the two women. When we see them, we open up. No warnings, Alex. No prisoners. Do you understand what I'm saying?

I understood perfectly.

Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

Chapter Ninety-Seven

Patience. This was a waiting game, right? I understood that much about tonight. I even knew the military jargon for what I had to do next.

EE. Evade and escape.

I studied the rough terrain behind me and saw that I could slide down into a hollow that would give me some cover but would also allow me to move laterally, east or west. I could change my position without their knowing it.

That would give me a small advantage.

But I'd take anything I could get right now. I felt that I was a dead man. I didn't see any way out of this. So the hollow or gully looked awfully good to me.

I thought about Starkey, Griffin and Harris. How good they were; how badly I wanted to bring them down, Starkey in particular. He was the smart one, the leader, the cruelest of the three. Then I thought of what Sampson had said: No prisoners. Only they had to be thinking the same thing.

I started to slide backward. I call it a slide, but I was almost burrowing into the wet leaves and soft ground.

At least I made it down into the hollow without being shot. Catbrier was stuck all over my legs and chest. I wasn't sure, but I didn't think I could be seen from the woods. No one shot me in the head anyway. That was a good sign, right? A victory in itself.

I crawled sideways in the hollow slowly with my face pressed deep into the cold dirt and leaves. I couldn't breathe very well. I kept moving until I was a good fifteen or twenty yards from my original position. I didn't risk looking up, but I knew my angle to the woods and the house had changed significantly.

Could they be watching me from somewhere close by? I didn't think so. But was I right?

I listened.

I didn't hear a twig break or brush being pushed aside. Just the steady whistle of the wind.

I pressed my ear to the ground, willing to try anything for an advantage. It didn't help.

Then I waited some more.

Patience.

Things Sampson had told me about the Army Rangers surfaced in my head. Odd facts. They had supposedly killed fifty-five VC for every Ranger in the war. That was the story anyway. And they took care of their own. In the Vietnam War only one Ranger was listed MIA. All the others were accounted for, every single one.

Maybe they had gone, fled from the woods, but I doubted it. Why would they leave me here alive? They wouldn't... Starkey wouldn't allow it.

I felt guilty that I'd left Sampson, but I wouldn't let myself dwell on it. I couldn't think about him. Not now. Later. If there was a later.

When we see them, we open up.

No warnings, Alex.

Do you understand what I'm saying?

I moved again, circling to the northeast, I figured. Were they moving on me, too?

I stopped.

New position.

I waited there some more. Every minute seemed like ten. Then I saw something move. Jesus! What the hell? It was a bobcat, eating its own droppings. Maybe twenty, twenty-five yards away. Unconcerned with me. In its own world.

I heard someone coming, and he was very fucking close.

How had he gotten so close without my hearing him before?

Shit, he was right on top of me!

Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

Chapter Ninety-Eight

Had he heard me, too? Did he know I was right there, a few feet away?

I didn't dare breathe. Or even blink my eyes.

He moved again.

Very slow, very careful, a professional soldier. No, a professional killer. There was a big difference. Or was there?

I didn't move an inch.

Patience.

No prisoners.

He was so close almost to the hollow I was lying in. He was coming for me. He had to know my position.

Which one of them was it? Starkey? Griffin? Harris -who I had avoided crashing into during a softball game? Was he going to kill me now? Or would I kill him?

Somebody was going to die in a minute or less.

Who could it be?

Who was up there over my head?

I shifted my body so I'd see him the instant he came over the edge. Was that what he would do? What were his instincts? He'd done this kind of tracking before. I hadn't. Not in the woods. And not in a war zone.

He moved again. Inches at a time.

Where the hell was he going? He was just about on top of me.

I watched the uneven ridge of the hollow and I held my breath. Tried not to blink. I felt the sweat streaming through my hair and down the back of my neck, down my back. An incredible cold sweat. The buzzing in my ears returned.

Someone rolled over the edge!

Brownley Harris. His eyes widened when he saw me waiting there for him, my gun aimed at his face.

I fired just one shot. Boom. Then there was a dark hole where his nose had been an instant before. Blood spurted from the center of his face. His M-16 dropped from his hands.

“No warnings,” I whispered as I took the rifle. Were the others close behind him? I waited for them. Ready as I'd ever be for a shootout.

Sergeant Warren Griffin.

Colonel Thomas Starkey.

The woods were so eerie. Silent again. I scuttled away under the cover of darkness.

Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice

Chapter Ninety-Nine

A three-quarter moon was out and that was both good and bad news. I was sure they would come for me now. It seemed logical, but was my logic the same as theirs?

I was back close to my original position in the woods. I thought so anyway.

Then I was certain.

My eyes teared involuntarily. I saw Sampson, lying still, right where he'd been shot. I could see the body so clearly in the moonlight. And I started to shake. What had happened was finally hitting me with its full force. I swiped at my eyes. A fist seemed to clench my heart and hold it tight, wouldn't let go.

I could see the dead women lying in the dirt road. Flies were buzzing around the bodies. An owl hooted from a nearby tree. I shuddered. In the morning perhaps a hawk or turkey vultures would come to feed on the bodies.