Tierney would sort out the whys and wherefores later. Right now, he bent back over Dutch, whose face looked like that of the villain in a slasher movie, a mix of blood and pus and blind fury. He jabbed the barrel of the pistol beneath Dutch’s chin. “I’ve got several good reasons to kill you. The first being that you hit Lilly. The only reason I’m not going to hurt you is I promised her I wouldn’t.”
Using the man’s wide chest for leverage, he pushed himself to his feet, staggering in search of equilibrium. Raising his left hand, he pointed at the approaching helicopter. “Either of you shoots me in the back, they’re going to see it.”
Then, knowing he’d squandered a valuable ten seconds on Lilly’s worthless ex, he clapped his right arm tightly against the side of his body and began a lurching run up the road in the direction of the cabin.
• • •
As they were making tight spins around the cabin, one of Collier’s men shouted, “Eleven o’clock.”
The pilot banked the chopper, and Begley saw what the SWAT officer had spotted—three men in the center of the narrow road. Until now they’d been blocked from sight by a hairpin curve. The chopper swept the treetops toward them.
Burton was lying on his back. Hamer was standing several yards away. Ben Tierney was leaving a wide trail of blood as he struggled up the incline, away from the other two.
Collier slid open the door of the chopper and took up his position. “I’ll take the mover,” he calmly said into the headset as he sighted Tierney in his scope.
“Hold fire,” Begley barked. “That’s not our man.”
“He’s got a handgun.”
“Not our man,” Begley repeated.
Begley looked from Tierney to Wes Hamer, who’d run over to Burton and knelt on one knee. Burton shoved him aside and sent him sprawling. Burton scrambled to his feet, then ran around in what appeared to be frantic circles until he bent down and recovered a semiautomatic rifle lying in the snow. He fired a shot at Tierney without taking aim. Tierney never even slowed down. He kept running.
“Hit the PA,” Begley ordered the pilot.
Wes Hamer had regained his footing and started toward Burton again.
“Keep him out of the way.” Begley issued the order to no one in particular, but one of the tactical officers fired several rounds at Hamer’s feet, sending up geysers of snow. Hamer came to a dead standstill and raised his hands high.
Burton raised his rifle to his shoulder and put his eye to the scope, a practiced move that took him possibly two seconds.
“Chief Burton! Hold your fire!” Begley’s voice boomed out of the speaker and could be heard above the clatter of the rotors. “Hold fire!” he shouted again.
Burton’s head snapped up and around.
Collier was sitting in the open doorway, his feet on the skid, his scope now trained on Burton. Begley was right behind him, leaning out the open door, testing the limits of his shoulder restraint.
He could see Burton clearly and read by his expression that the police chief had been unaware of the chopper until that moment. Begley also read something else in the man’s expression that made him ask Collier if he had a clean shot.
“Got him.”
Begley shouted, “Burton, hold your fire! Tierney is not Blue! He’s not our man.”
But Burton didn’t heed him. Instead he aimed the rifle at Tierney’s retreating back and peered through his scope again. “Son of a bitch! Is he deaf?” Begley yelled.
An innocent man was about to be blown to hell and back, and he would bear the responsibility for that for the rest of his life. In less time than it took him to process these thoughts, he said, “One in the calf.”
Collier responded, firing instantly. Dutch Burton’s left leg crumpled beneath him. Begley could see the rage in his eyes as he swung the rifle up over his head and fired.
Collier fell backward into the chopper. The bullet hadn’t pierced his vest, but it had packed a painful punch.
Burton fired again. The bullet missed Begley by a hair.
He heard the pilot swear elaborately as he swung the chopper around. Begley felt the pull of his seat belt against his middle and the countertug of
gravity through the open door.
“I lost my shot,” he heard one of the others shout into the headset.