Deadly Expectations (23 page)

Paul looked at me.
 
He still wasn’t all there.
 
The only blood dripped from his face; none was visible around the hole in his jacket.
 
I watched his eyes staring back at me then I froze.

I didn’t see Paul any more.
 
I saw Catherine’s lover lying in a pool of blood.
 
His dead glassy eyes watched me the same way.
 
I knew with infallible certainty as my husband lay immobile on the ground before me in a sniper’s sights that I’d watched the same man die two hundred years before.
 
I knew what Ray had meant by Paul’s long memory from that pain laced conversation I overheard weeks before.
 
I knew if I did nothing it would happen again.

Paul tried to move so I put all the anger I could muster into my voice.
 
He had to follow my orders while he was in no shape to give them.

“Stay down Paul,” I barked at him.
 
“The man on the hill has his gun on you.”

The smudge watched.
 

Waiting.

I pulled out my gun.

“Can’t hit … too far,” Paul gasped.

“Noisemaker.”

I pointed my gun to the sky and squeezed off two rounds then two more.
 
The look of panic faded from Paul’s face as he understood.
 
The smudge sat up, getting my attention.
 
He was going to move.
 
Now that I’d alerted the others he was going to have to move fast.
 
I didn’t have much time.

Once he was on his feet I jumped to Paul’s side, my gun tracking his position.
 

“Anna, get back,” he tried to snap at me.

“No … I can see him.
 
Now that everyone knows there’s a problem he’s finding a new position to get a better shot.”
 

My right hand undid the snap on Paul’s belt and took his knife.
 
“What are you doing … wait.”

“No time,” I said.
 
“He’s going to kill you and six others including me before the rest get him … somehow I know.”

Paul was trying to shake his head.

With all the authority I could pull off I growled at him.
 
“You stay down or so help me I’ll knock you out so you do.
 
I’ve watched you die once already.
 
It’s not happening again.”
 
The man on the hill looked back at us, almost in position.
 
He’d moved so fast; he thought he could get me first then Paul.
 
I put my gun down and gently brushed the blood from his forehead then I hurried back behind the building.

“Don’t move,” I growled again.
 
I could feel the anger in my face.
 
“I’ll be back in a minute then we’ll talk about keeping things from Anna.”

“No, no, no …” Paul struggled.
 
It didn’t matter.
 
I would sort out the man on the hill before he could get a round off.
 
I moved Paul’s knife to my left hand.
 
The man on the hill was prone, putting his rifle to his shoulder.

“I love you,” I told Paul and disappeared.

I re-appeared already bringing Paul’s knife down in both hands, my feet planted on either side of the man on the hill.
 
I didn’t hesitate.
 
Just as his finger went to the trigger the knife sunk deep into the fold between his shoulder and his neck.
 
The force I put behind it pushed him down into the snow sending the muzzle up.
 
The rifle discharged; the bullet exploding into a nearby tree.

Anger clouded my vision and a void of indifference filled me.
 
I’d saved my family.
 
Paul, me, and our baby.
 
I had no other choice.
 
None at all.

The man took his hands off his rifle and tried to grab the knife.
 
That didn’t worry me.
 
I used all my weight to drive it in and there was no way he was getting it out.
 
I put my boot on his head and held him down; I didn’t really want to see his face.

The man was bleeding out quickly; he’d stopped pushing up on my foot so I took his sidearm.
 
I popped out the clip and made sure the chamber was clear before I put both in my pocket.
 
Then I took his rifle and unloaded it as well.
 
He’d stopped moving so I put my hand on his back.
 
He exhaled once and was still.
 
I relaxed and stepped off him.

I quickly patted him down and found another handgun under his arm so I pushed his coat up on that side to get it.
 
A river of blood flooded out into the snow.
 
While I waited for it to stop I looked back at Paul.
 
He’d seen me and I noticed someone peeking around from the warehouse.

“It’s okay,” I called down.
 
“There was just one.”

Nobody moved.
 
I carefully fished the other hand gun out of the shoulder holster avoiding the blood and yelled again while I was unloading it.
 

“I got him, you can come out now.”

When it was in my other pocket I moved to the man’s head and put my foot on it.
 
It took some wiggling but I finally got Paul’s knife out.
 
There were two men with Paul and two on their way to me so I slung the man’s rifle over my shoulder and with the still dripping knife in my hand I walked past them down the hill.
 

Ross and the other man with Paul had him sitting by the time I got there.
 
I knelt beside him.
 
There was pain on his face now that the glassy look was gone.
 
I put the rifle down on the ground beside him.

“He shot you with this,” I told him.

Then I pulled out the man’s hand guns and the clips.
 
I put my own gun back in its holster under my arm.

“What were you thinking?
 
I told you to stay back.” Paul demanded.

Ross quickly checked all three weapons.

“They’re secure,” he said.

“He was half a second from sending a round through your head,” I whispered in his ear.
 
Ross and the other man were busy briefing the others who’d arrived.
 
“This was the small lead group I told you about before we left for
Reno
.
 
He would have killed seven including our baby before he was stopped.
 
If you think I was out of line by defending us when you were incapacitated we can discuss that privately.”

He set his jaw and looked at me.
 
“No, I guess not.”

“I don’t know where the others are.
 
I didn’t see him until he had his sight on me.
 
I’ll keep looking.”
 

Paul looked down at his bloody knife.
 
“You used my knife?”

“I put my gun down to wipe the blood from your face … I must have left it,” I shrugged and looked away as I started to get angry again.
 
I backed up and leaned against the wall to let Ray work.
 
Paul’s knife was still in my hand and I crossed my arms and pulled my knees up as far as I could to hide it close across my stomach.
 
I wasn’t giving it up.

Most of the men had been sent out to check the compound by the time the men who went up the hill after me came back to report to Paul.
 
“She just about took his head off.
 
We tracked him back about a hundred yards over the hill to his camp.
 
Looks like he was ready to dig in there for a long time.”

I didn’t remember it like that.
 
From the corner of my eye I saw Paul look over at me.
 
I didn’t look back.
 
Instead I got up and walked up the hill to the house then right toward the south end of the compound.
 
They could look for me for a while; the danger was past for now.
 
I needed to try and find the others who were coming for us.

The south road was deserted so I went forty or so feet into the trees and sat down against a sturdy trunk.
 
I pictured myself moving away to the south, searching as I went.
 
I searched for a while until I got sleepy and dozed off.
 
I woke cold … and certain of where the last two men could be stopped.

Paul waited in the open front door for me when I got back to the house.
 
I stopped for a moment to look at him.
 
Then I smiled, tears of relief started to run down my face.
 
Relief showed on his face too and something else.
 
Anger at me maybe, for what I couldn’t guess.

“Hi,” I said as I got close to him.

“Where were you?” he asked as he put his arms around me.
 
I held him with one arm.
 
One still held the knife.
 
I rested my head on him and breathed him in.
 
He was warm and alive.

“I fell asleep just south of the compound.
 
That jump drained me.
 
I was looking for the second group.”

“Upstairs,” he told me.
 

Paul stiffly sat on the bed.
 
A line of fresh stitches disappeared up into his hairline.
 
I left the door open a bit so I could hear if anyone came up and stood with my arms crossed guarding him.

“You went after them by yourself?”

“I didn’t,” I told him.
 
“I was trying to see them like when I saw them before.”

He frowned.
 
“Can I have my knife back now?”

“Not until the danger is past.
 
It’s not over yet.”

“And you’re going after them?” he demanded, crushing handfuls of bedspread.

“No, I …”

“Haven’t we risked enough for one day?”

I crossed my arms tighter.
 
“You can be as mad at me as you want but that doesn’t change what happened today.
 
He almost got us both.”

“And you know this?” he asked.
 
“How?”

“Yes … and I’m figuring that out.”

We stared at each other for a few seconds.

“How about we talk about you keeping things from me?” I asked.

“What things?
 
I told you everything you asked about.”

I nodded.
 
“But then you didn’t really …

“The funny thing is I’m not even mad at you for keeping it from me.
 
I was earlier but not now because I wouldn’t have believed it.
 
It was when I saw you on the ground looking up at me half conscious.
 
Barely seeing me.
 
I knew who you were.
 
And who I was.
 
Why our first night together felt like I was reconnecting with an old lover, not finding a new one.

“You felt it then too,” I said quietly.
 
He stared back.

“You don’t have to say anything.
 
You were Catherine’s lover years and years ago.
 
You thought I was dead so you gave up.
 
I watched him kill you.”
 
I took a step closer, my arms relaxed.