The Guilty (Will Robie 4)

Robie did not step out into the clearing.

“Are you alone?” he said.

“Yes,” she replied.

A bit too quickly.

Robie’s hand went to his waistband and out came one of the Glocks. A round was already chambered. He had three spare mags on him as well as his other Glock.

“Come all the way out in the clearing,” he said.

She did so.

And then so did the other man. Right behind Sara.

It was the same guy from the other night: bandaged face in the car.

He held up his gun hand, which was also heavily bandaged. He had his gun in his left hand.

“Hello again,” said the man. “Remember me, Mr. Robie?”

The guy was murderous intent all dolled up in gauze and attitude.

Robie looked around for the others. No way this guy came alone. They were probably starting to outflank him now, coming from all corners.

Bang-bang you’re dead.

Stupid for him to have come here alone at night. He fished for his phone. But who would he call?

Taggert?

Who knew how long it would take for her to get here?

And if she did manage it she’d be outgunned and end up dead like him.

911?

He remembered what she’d said about that.

They’d get here tomorrow to take pictures of the body. What was left of it.

He put the phone away.

“You better come out, Robie,” said Sara, a touch of nervous triumph now in her voice. “They got you surrounded,” she added, her voice quavering. “Should’ve offered to pay me more than three hundred!”

“Shut up, bitch!” yelled the man. He slugged Sara with the butt of his gun. She screamed and fell to the ground, holding her head where he’d struck her.

The man pointed his gun at her.

“Robie, you got ’til the count of five and then she’s dead.”

“How about you being dead too, then?” replied Robie. He lined up his iron sights on the man’s face. There was just enough moonlight to make this an easy kill.

“I’ve got lots of guns aimed at her, Robie. Even if you kill me, she’s dead. And when you fire you reveal your position. And then you’re dead.”

“Looks like I’m dead either way, so why not take you and as many of your boys with me as I can?”

“Because if you come out with your weapon down I’ll let her go.”

“Bullshit.”

“Please, Robie,” sobbed Sara. “Please do it. They’re goin’ to kill me!”

“You were dead the minute you did the deal with them.”

She shrieked, “Robie! I don’t want to die!”

Robie was on the move. If the head guy was in the middle of the clearing he figured he had deployed his troops in a circle around that area, which would include where Robie was right now. If they had come in from the direction Sara had stepped from, that meant the guns assigned to get in behind Robie were the farthest away and probably still getting into position.

He did not intend to allow that to happen.

He encountered the first sentry thirty seconds later.

The man had a gun and a knife.

Robie stripped him of the gun and used the knife to slit the man’s throat. He laid him quietly on the dirt and turned to his left.

“Robie, I’m going to shoot her in three seconds unless you walk out here.”

“Kill her. Then you have no more leverage. Then I’ll kill all of you. Guaranteed.”

The man gripped the gun more tightly and looked around the dark woods. His confident look slowly fell away as though he had just realized his costly miscalculation. “One…”

Robie slipped to his left, passed by a tree in a low squat, found the second sentry anxiously peering around in suit and polished shoes, and snapped his neck cleanly. He laid this man down, too.

“Two…”

“Robie, please!” screamed Sara.

“Okay,” said Robie. “I’m coming out.”

He stepped toward the clearing, aware that as soon as he stepped into it a number of weapons would be pointed his way.

He had one gun in hand, his backup in the small of his back. And a knife palmed on the inside of his left hand.

He stepped into the clearing and looked over at the man and then down at Sara. The girl was trembling all over. When she saw Robie, she said, “Thank God.”

She started to get up.

The man kicked her. “Stay down.”

She sank back to the dirt, sniffling.

The man stared over at Robie from a distance of ten feet.

“Drop the gun.”

Robie did so.

“I think you got other weapons.”

“Maybe I do.”

The man pointed his weapon at Robie. “You don’t look so tough now.”

“Neither do the two guys I already dealt with. You’ll need to hire more.”

“Not a problem. The position pays well. So should I kill her first or you?”

“What?” wailed Sara. “You said you’d let me go if he gave himself up.”

“I was lying, you stupid piece of shit. You think I’m gonna kill him and leave you to tell everyone? Jesus, get a freakin’ brain, willya? I’ll be doing the gene pool a favor getting rid of you.”

“Omigod, omigod,” whimpered Sara.

Robie could see she was just about to go into hysterics, which meant he would kill her first. He slid the knife into place. Ten feet, not a problem. Aim for the neck, move to his left, pull his backup.

“Bye-bye, Sara, baby,” said the man. He aimed his pistol at her head.

She shrieked and covered her head with her hands, as if that would matter.

Robie pulled his knife, took aim…

The sound of the shot shattered the night.

The man holding the gun on Sara stood there for a moment, not quite realizing what had just happened.

Which was that he had just died.

He dropped first to his knees, then to his hands, and finally onto his face, what was left of it.

Sara screamed and rolled away.

Robie slid to the side and pulled his backup Glock.

Shots erupted from all over.

Bullets whizzed and zinged overhead and more than occasionally smacked into trees. Bark flew off in jagged chunks, birds scattered from trees, small animals scurried away in the darkness as man, the world’s most dangerous predator, got down to battle.

They were pistol shots, Robie could tell.

Mostly pistol shots.

But some weren’t.

Some were high-powered rifle shots. The one that had killed the guy certainly was. And every time he heard it fire a moment later he heard a man grunt. And then he heard a body hit the dirt.

Robie raced over to Sara, grabbed her by the arm, and flung her behind a stand of trees.

He took up position behind an oak and peered around the trunk, trying to take in the details of the battlefield.

A shot hit close to his head. He slid to the other side of the trunk and fired back at the spot from where the shot had come.

The firefight went on for another five minutes. Robie had used up both pistols’ original ammo and eaten into one of his backups. He had killed one more guy for a total of three, and the rifle, he thought, had equaled that.

Then there were no more shots.

Only running feet. Bad guys were in retreat, leaving the dead behind.

Once they had disappeared, Robie surveyed what had become a battlefield complete with the requisite corpses.