Authors: Robin Burcell

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #General

The Kill Order (36 page)

BOOK: The Kill Order

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“The kind that work for the U.S. government.”

Sydney raised the AR–15 and pointed it at the chief. “Actually, the impatient kind. Drop your weapons to the ground. Everyone!” The other two officers hesitated, until Sydney aimed right at them. Both AR–15s went down, followed by their handguns.

“You know what I think?” Parks said, making no move to unholster his gun. “I think you’re not stupid enough to connect that firing switch to the detonator. I think that wire is wrapped around it just for show.”

“Feel free to take a closer look. But like I said.
Your
funeral.”

Sydney gave a frustrated sigh. “I’ve got plans for the weekend. How about I just shoot him?”

“Remote on the ground,” Griffin ordered again.

Parks glanced at Sydney, as though wondering if she might actually pull the trigger. When she lifted the rifle higher, he held the remote out, slowly placing it on the ground.

“Now the gun,” Griffin said. “On the ground, then kick it forward.”

Sydney leaned in, probably wishing the chief would make a wrong move, but he tossed the handgun to the ground, then kicked it toward them.

Griffin removed the makeshift bomb from the first officer’s arms, then set it on the ground. In short order, they had all three officers and the chief cuffed. Once they were secured, Griffin sat each man on the wall. “So which one of you men wants to tell me where we can find Garrett Quindlen?”

The three officers stared at their feet. Chief Parks spit on the ground, then glared at Griffin. “You’re insane if you think any of us will talk. We’d be dead in a heartbeat.”

“Even if we made a deal?”

“Especially if we made a deal. It’s his boss that pulls the strings, and even I don’t know who that is.”

“Somebody really high up,” one of the officers said. “Brooks.”

“Shut your trap, boy,” Parks told him. “You’re gonna get us all killed.”

Brooks was a name Griffin had heard before, an aka. What they needed to know was the identity of the man behind it. All Griffin knew was that he was rumored to be a very large player in the Network, the criminal organization suspected of running the drugs and guns. And that made a lot more sense than someone like Quindlen, a low-level ex–CIA agent, pulling the strings. Quindlen was obviously running one arm of the operation from here, not the whole show. But now they had a link between the two names. A step in the right direction, he thought as Calvin Walker and Max emerged from the house, followed by Trish. Calvin was talking on Griffin’s phone as he and Max walked down the long drive, then over to the wall where the officers waited.

The three officers looked down, as though ashamed for their part in what happened. The chief continued glaring as Griffin asked Calvin, “You get ahold of my partner?”

“I did,” Calvin said, holding out the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”

Griffin took it. “Tex. I take it you heard the news?”

“I did. Border Patrol’s sending a helicopter to pick up the prisoners. You get the information on Quindlen?”

“Just that he’s involved.” He stepped a few feet away, not wanting to be overheard by Parks or his men. “One of the officers said that Quindlen was working for Brooks. The chief shut him up. Said they’d all be dead if they talked.”

He heard Tex talking to someone else, probably their boss. A moment later, he was back on the line. “McNiel wants you and Sydney back here at once. If this is Brooks’s operation, he’s bound to find out even before you get to Quindlen.”

“My understanding is he lives nearby. We should at least—”

“Sorry, Griff. The boss says back here for debriefing. If there’s any chance we can get Brooks, last thing we need to do is spook him by going after Quindlen. You’ll get him later.”

He disconnected, walked up to Sydney, saying, “We’re heading back. Today.”

If she was bothered, she didn’t show it. Or maybe it was more that her attention was focused on Max as he stopped suddenly, refusing to move forward, when Calvin was walking past the officers on the wall. The dog eyed Parks, lowered his head, then growled.

Parks inched back. “Should’ve shot it when I had the chance.”

Calvin grabbed Parks by his arm, pulled him to his feet, his free hand clenched, shaking.

“What’re you going to do, boy? Hit me? While I’m cuffed?”

“I should.”

“You always were a coward. And you smell like piss.”

Griffin reached out, grasped Calvin by his shoulder. “Not worth it.”

Calvin hesitated, then lowered his fist. He walked Parks to the patrol car, pushed him into the backseat, then slammed the door shut.

Unfortunately the window was rolled down and Parks leaned out, apparently not knowing when to shut up. “Pissed your pants like a coward! I should’ve killed you
and
your dog. You stink, boy!”

Sydney slung the AR–15 onto her back, then picked up the remote and the bomb Griffin had made. “Calvin? Get Trish and the dog and leave out the gate.
Now
.” And then she walked over to the patrol car where Parks sat. She set the bomb on the front dash with the timer facing toward him. When she was certain he saw it, she held up the remote so he had no choice but to look. “What was that you said about cowards?”

His eyes widened, but then the bluster returned to his face. “If that thing were real, you wouldn’t be standing here.”

“Guess you’ll find out at the last second,” she said, then looked toward the officers sitting on the wall. “You might want to hit the ground.”

“Sydney . . . ?” Griffin called out, as he backed up with the others. “
Don’t
.”

“He deserves it, Griff.” She shoved the remote right up to Parks’s face, pressed the button, then ran toward Griffin. The timer flashed red, counting down the seconds.

Parks went wild, throwing himself against the car door. It held fast. The three officers looked on in disbelief, then dove to the ground.

Crack!

The tire blew.

The ensuing silence was almost as deafening as the gunshot from Sydney’s AR–15. Parks stilled in his seat, looking shocked that he was alive.

Sydney walked up, leaned toward the window. “Huh. Guess you were right. Detonator
wasn’t
connected.” And then she gave a pointed look at the growing wet stain on his khaki pants. “But who smells like piss now?”

T
he Border Patrol arrived to take custody of the officers, and were soon joined by the various alphabet agencies, all interested in the gunrunning that Parks was involved in. Griffin and Sydney gave a brief statement of their involvement. And contrary to Chief Parks’s accusation, no one was trying to kill him. The discharge of the weapon that took out the patrol car tire? Purely accidental.

Finally they were allowed to leave. As Griffin and Sydney walked toward the car still parked out by the gulch, she reached out, gave him a quick hug. “That was actually fun.”

“Not bad for a day’s work.”

“Too bad we have to fly back for debriefing. I was looking forward to a nice quiet weekend. Just you and me . . .”

“Same here,” he said, though he wasn’t being entirely truthful. He looked over at her, wishing he could just come right out and say what he had to say. Some secrets were never meant to be divulged, and this was one. Even so, until he told her, there could never be anything between them. And if he did tell her? He knew without a doubt she’d leave. Never look back.

The laughter left her eyes as she studied his face, apparently sensing his struggle. “So . . . what was it you wanted to talk to me about? We’ve got a few minutes before that helicopter gets here.”

“It can wait,” he said, hoping he wasn’t making the mistake of his life.

They walked in silence a few minutes, and then she linked her arm through his, her face lighting up once more. “God, I wish I had a photo of his face when I shot out that tire.”

He looked over at her and smiled. “Priceless.”

About the Author

ROBIN BURCELL
is an FBI-trained forensic artist who has worked in law enforcement for over two decades as a police officer, detective, and hostage negotiator. A two-time Anthony Award winner, she is the author of the Sydney Fitzpatrick novels,
Face of a Killer, The Bone Chamber, The Dark Hour,
and
The Black List
, as well as four novels featuring SFPD Homicide Inspector Kate Gillespie:
Every Move She Makes, Fatal Truth, Deadly Legacy,
and
Cold Case
.

You can visit her website at www.robinburcell.com.

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Resounding Praise for the Award-Winning Novels of

ROBIN BURCELL

“[Burcell] grips like a pair of police-issue handcuffs . . . [with] total authenticity, high stakes, and extreme suspense.”

Lee Child,
New York Times
bestselling author

“Great authors only get better over time. [Burcell is] pushing to new heights of storytelling . . . [with] intrigue and cutting-edge forensic science.”

James Rollins,
New York Times
bestselling author

“Excellent . . . [Burcell] scores big. . . . A real winner.”

John Lescroart,
New York Times
bestselling author

“Terrific.”

Library Journal
(*Starred Review*)

“Smart and sexy . . . [Burcell] kept me up all night.”

Janet Evanovich,
New York Times
bestselling author

“Riveting . . . I couldn’t put it down.”

William Heffernan, Edgar® Award-winning author

“Smart, tough, and right on the mark.”

Catherine Coulter,
New York Times
bestselling author

“Robin Burcell is among the best writers of crime fiction.”

Jan Burke, Edgar® Award-winning author

By Robin Burcell

When Midnight Comes

Every Move She Makes

Fatal Truth

Deadly Legacy

Cold Case

“The Last Second” was first published as an e-book novella December 2013 by Harper Impulse, an Imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

THE KILL ORDER
. Copyright © 2014 by Robin Burcell. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

EPub Edition JANUARY 2014 ISBN: 9780062273727

Print Edition ISBN: 9780062273710

FIRST EDITION

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