Four Blind Mice (Alex Cross 8)

I watched him run forward in a low crouch. Sampson was down close to the ground, moving fast. He was good at this — combat. He’d been there too.

He was about halfway to where the women lay when gunfire erupted from the woods to his right.

I still couldn’t see anybody, just wisps of gun smoke wafting up into tree branches.

Sampson was hit, and he went down hard. I could see his legs and

lower torso just over a bramble. One leg twitched. Then nothing.

Sampson didn’t move anymore.

I had to get to him somehow. But how? I crawled on my stomach to another tree. I felt weightless and unreal. Completely unreal. There was more gunfire. Pinging off rocks, thudding into nearby trees. I didn’t think I was hit, but they’d come damn close. The fire was heavy.

I could see wisps of smoke from the rifles rising to my right. I could also smell gunpowder in the air.

It struck me that we weren’t getting out of this one. I could see Sampson where he lay. He wasn’t moving. Not even a twitch. I couldn’t get to him. They had me pinned down. My last case. I had said that right from the start.

“John,” I called. “John! Can you hear me?”

I waited a few seconds, then called out again. “John! Move something. John?”

Please say something. Please move.

Nothing came back to me.

Except another round of heavy fire from the woods.

Chapter 96

I HADN’T EXPERIENCED anything like the explosive rage, but also the fear, that I felt. This happened in combat, I realized, and considered the irony. Soldiers lost buddies in the war and went a little mad, or maybe a great deal mad.

Is that what had happened in the An Lao Valley? There was a noisy buzzing inside my head, bright flashes of color in front of my eyes. Everything around me felt completely surreal.

“John,” I called again. “If you can hear me, move something. Move a leg. John!”

Don’t die on me. Not like this. Not now.

He didn’t move, didn’t respond. There was no sign that he was alive. He didn’t shiver or twitch.

Nothing at all.

More rifle fire suddenly erupted from the woods, and I hugged the ground, digging my face into leaves and dirt.

I tried to put Sampson out of my mind. If I didn’t, I would wind up dead. I had a terrible thought about John and Billie. Then I let it go. I had to. Otherwise, I’d die out here for sure.

Trouble was, I didn’t see how I was going to outmaneuver three Army Rangers in the woods, especially on terrain they were familiar with. These were experienced combat veterans. So they didn’t risk closing in on me right away. They’d wait until dark.

Not too long from now. Maybe half an hour. Then I was going to die, wasn’t I?

I lay behind a big hemlock, and a lot of disconnected thoughts shunted through my head. I thought about my kids, how unprepared I was to die, and how I would never see them again. I’d had so many warnings, so many close calls, but here I was.

I checked on Sampson again — he still hadn’t moved.

I raised my head a couple of times. Just for a second. I turkey-necked a look through the trees.

There were no moving shadows in the woods. I knew they were there, though, waiting me out. Three army assassins. Led by Colonel Thomas Starkey.

They’d been here before; they were patient as death itself.