The Gray Ghost (Fargo Adventures 10) - Page 54

Sam gripped his Smith & Wesson, running around the truck to Chad’s side, aiming at the two men. No way was he going to let them anywhere near his wife. Finger on the trigger, he was starting to squeeze when he saw two girls at the bottom of the hill, playing hopscotch on the sidewalk.

Directly in the line of fire.

“You ever play rugby, Chad?” Sam asked, holstering his gun.

“Yeah.”

“Get ready . . .” He hopped up onto the flatbed trailer, picking up the tarp. “Hey, Bruno!” he shouted. “You forgot something.”

The two gunmen turned and looked up at him. Sam heaved the tarp at Bruno, jumped, using the larger man’s body to break his own fall.

At the same time, Chad charged at the second man, lowering his shoulder, ramming him in the chest.

They all hit the ground. The fall stunned Bruno. Sam grabbed him by his shoulders, pulled him up, slammed him back into the pavement, knocking the gun from his grasp. It fell to the blacktop a few inches away. Beside him, he saw Chad and the second man struggling, only then realizing they were fighting for control of the other gun. Chad had the weapon by the barrel, trying to push it away. He was losing.

Bruno glanced over, saw what was happening, his eyes finding the fallen gun a mere foot away. No way could Sam get to it or his own holstered gun without letting him go. Bruno gave him a sneering smile. “Say good-bye to your friend.”

“Not likely,” Sam said, driving his elbow into Bruno’s face. He dove for the gun, fired at Chad’s attacker, the ringing in his ears almost drowning out the other man’s scream and the screech of tires of the flatbed truck that followed. Sam saw the flash of a knife blade from the corner of his eye.

As Bruno rolled to his knees, lunging at him with the dagger, Remi jumped out of the car, gripping her Sig with both hands. “Drop it,” she ordered.

Bruno, his knife only six inches from Sam’s throat, eyed the almost thirty-foot distance between them. “I’ve seen you shoot. You really think you can hit me from that far?”

She fired. The knife flew from his hand, clattering down the street. “Guess not,” she said, moving closer.

Bruno raised both hands, a look of respect and fear on his face. A few feet away, his partner writhed on the ground, gripping his arm, moaning. Chad had wrested the gun from him, his hand shaking as he backed away.

“Are the police on their way?” Sam asked Remi.

“Any second now.” She kept her focus on Bruno and his partner. “Imagine running into our friends from Pebble Beach all the way out here.”

“Apparently, they didn’t get the word,” Sam said, taking the other gun from Chad. “We don’t have the Gray Ghost.”

He aimed the weapon at Bruno, about to ask who they were working for, when Chad’s mother rushed out of the car, slapping at her son’s hands as he tried to stop her. “Let go of me, Chad. What on earth has gotten into you?”

“Mum—”

She stopped short at the sight of Sam and Remi standing over the two men. “Why are these two pointing guns at your mates?”

“They’re not my mates, Mum. They’re criminals.”

“Rubbish!” She stepped between Remi and the two thugs. “We had tea together. Put that thing down, young lady.”

“Mum!” Chad rushed forward, pulling his mother back. The gunmen, seeing a break, scrambled to their feet, racing down the hill.

Remi aimed, following their path with her sight. “It’d be an easy hit.”

“Let them go,” Sam said, seeing the two little girls who had been playing hopscotch at the bottom of the street now standing there, staring at them, wondering what was going on. “I have a feeling we’ll get another chance.”

Remi lowered her gun but didn’t holster it until both men had jumped into their cars, tires screeching as they drove off in the opposite direction. Once they were gone, she walked over, picked up the knife, turning it about in her hands.

“Do you have to tease the bad guys?” Sam asked, as she returned to the car. He had Oliver pop open the trunk so he could empty the recovered guns and store them.

“It’s fun.”

“For you, maybe. That knife was a lot closer to my head than yours.”

“Oh, buck up, Fargo,” she said, holstering her gun. “You’d have done the same. So why didn’t you?”

Tags: Clive Cussler Fargo Adventures Thriller
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