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Conflicting emotions. Trust me, I know how to do this warred with Damn, I hope so.
"So, Samuels. Are you the head of the food chain here? Or just a player like them?" I gestured at the men standing behind me. I was all about big talk and bluster and buying time and there was no doubt they knew it.
But Samuels wasn't kingpin. I was pretty sure of that. He was bragging too much, and he was Samuels. He was a fuckup, even if the losers here feared him.
Problem was, I thought he was probably top of the trash pile in Vegas. If we didn't get any farther, that would suck. But if I could get Samuels taken in, I could testify. After all, he sold me. That wasn't hearsay or just being a witness. That was being the victim. Get Samuels and his men put away, at least we'd break the chain here.
I wanted to go farther up that chain, but stopping this part of the ring? That would matter to a lot of people.
He was so busy bragging and threatening and waving the gun at me, it was one of his men that asked another, "You hear something?"
And by then it was too late. Because I had. I'd heard the chopper pull away, having determined where I was or maybe there were no vehicles around other buildings.
Or maybe Cole St. Martin had the same weird feeling that I did – like somehow, magically, he could feel where I was.
Only they were not breaking in, this cavalry I hoped was here. And Samuels was advancing on me, gun out, face looking more and more like he'd had a little too much of whatever he was undoubtedly selling on the side. He was getting close and yeah, I was armed and I'd taken down more than one yahoo with a gun when I didn't have one.
Only Samuels had been my watcher. He not only trained the same as me, he actually trained me to some extent.
I watched him like I'd watch a particularly deadly snake I'd spotted too late to run from. Like I was hoping it would slither on past.
Samuels wasn't slithering. He was stalking.
"You think you're valuable?"
I laughed though I didn't mean it. I was scared now. His pupils had contracted to little dots of insanity. Some kind of amphetamine racing through him. He'd always been unstable, I thought, and always been unpredictable. Now he was deadly.
He made a sudden movement with the gun and I flinched back, stumbling into the arms of one of his men. It knocked him off balance. Not because he wasn't twice my size. But because he jerked forward, trying to catch me. Trying to hold me still so Samuels could shoot me.
Or grab me. Or whatever he meant to do.
He fell backwards, dragging me with him and the bullet passed over both of us, hitting something metal behind us and ricocheting off.
I screamed as I fell onto him and used him to avoid getting my breath knocked out again. The instant I could move I went up and levered myself down again, planting an elbow in his sternum, driving the air out of him, then moving fast, already uncertain why I hadn't been shot, I kneed him as I threw myself up, grabbing his gun. He wrapped around himself, unable to make a sound or even get enough air to pant through the pain.
I spun, sighted where Samuels was, threw myself to one side as his gun exploded again.
This time it was held the right way but from his nondominant hand. He'd broken his wrist shooting at me.
That didn't make him any less deadly. He'd have been trained to use his gun with either hand. I ran for cover. At the same time I heard the most beautiful words I'd ever heard.
"FBI! Everyone freeze!"
47
Cole
They weren't FBI. But no one stops to check ID when the firing starts.
There were four of them inside the warehouse. Two guys caught on video at the courthouse, the ones who had done the transport.
And Samuels. Small world.
And Annie.
"Wait until we've got 'em nailed down, boss," Barry said.
Nobody told Annie that. She saw me and started to run.
