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the front door. It was a simple door lock. Again, that seemed off. He checked up, down, and along the eaves of the roofline. No surveillance cameras. He had encountered no tripwires. If the porch had a pressure plate embedded in it that would trigger an alarm, it must have been a silent one.

He faced the door and kicked right at where the lock met the frame. The door crashed inward and he was through the opening, his M11 making broad, precise sweeps in front of him.

To the left and right he heard glass crashing inward, then footsteps.

An instant later Bobby appeared in the hall to his left.

“Clear my way,” he said to his brother.

They both headed to the right.

They started to run when they heard the shots fired.

“Knox!” called out Puller.

They kicked open doors and cleared rooms until a few seconds later they reached the last room. The door was partially open. And the light was on.

Puller pushed the door open fully and he and his brother filled the doorway, their guns pointed in front of them.

There was glass from the broken window on the floor.

Reynolds was sitting up in her bed, holding her shoulder, and blood was streaming down her left arm.

Knox had her gun pointed at the other woman’s head. She glanced at Puller. “I had the misfortune to fall right into her bedroom,” she explained.

She pointed to the gun on the floor. “She drew down on me and fired, but I’m the better shot, I guess. Even if I’m not an Olympian,” she added, casting Reynolds a snide look. She pointed at the bullet lodged in the wall near the windowsill.

“Never doubted it,” said Puller with a grin.

She eyed Reynolds’s bloody arm. “You want to triage her? I’m no good at that.”

Puller kept his weapon out and walked over to Reynolds.

She looked up at him, pain in her eyes. “She tried to kill me.”

“I’m sure she had a great reason.”

“You broke into my home.”

“Again, with good reason.”

“I’m calling the police.”

Knox barked, “What you’re going to do is confess.”

Reynolds swiveled her gaze to her. “You really aren’t thinking very clearly. I have nothing to confess to.”

Knox said, “It’s over, Susan. The goons you sent after Robert Puller got slammed by his little brother. The cops have them in custody. They’re talking like you wouldn’t believe. Your best bet is to cooperate and get a lighter sentence. But you’re still going to prison for a long, long time.”

Reynolds eyed Robert Puller, who still had his gun pointed at her. “You really should have just left it alone, Robert.”

“How could I? You sent somebody to kill me.”

“Then you should have just died.” She grimaced, grabbed at her arm, and exclaimed, “Shit. You hit the bone.”

“Sorry,” said Knox, though her tone was not sorry at all. “Puller, you better tourniquet it so our star witness doesn’t bleed to death.”

Puller holstered his gun and sat next to Reynolds.

Robert put his gun in his waistband and went to stand next to Knox. “It went down easier than I thought,” he said.

“For me too,” said Knox.

Puller started to examine Reynolds’s wound, drawing up the sleeve of her shirt.

“Uh, Junior?”

Puller was frowning because he couldn’t see— He said, “Knox, where the hell did the round go—”

“John!” exclaimed Robert.

Puller turned to his brother. “What is—”

He stopped.

His brother’s gun was gone from his waistband. It was now in Knox’s hand and pointed at Puller.

In her other hand Veronica Knox had her pistol pressed against Robert’s head.

She smiled apologetically at Puller. “I told you that you couldn’t trust me—Junior.”

CHAPTER

63

REYNOLDS SLIPPED THE bedcovers off and rose, drawing a Glock nine-mil that she had hidden under the pillow.

She was dressed in jeans and her feet were bare. She pointed her weapon at Puller, who had risen off the bed and backed away. Reynolds took a few moments to wipe the red off her arm using the sheet from the bed.

Finished, she looked at Robert Puller.

“Theatrical stuff,” she said. “Much like what you have on. Nice job, by the way. Never would have recognized you except for the exterior surveillance cameras at my house.”

“So why Russia, Susan?” said Robert. “They don’t need any help, do they? The Middle East is where it’s at, right?”

She said, “Moscow will always have more staying power than the desert rats. The terrorists will get subsumed into rising economies because they have no clue how to run a country or create jobs. People over there care less about Allah and more about having clean water, electricity, and ways to feed their families. But Russia is a real country. With a real army. With real nuclear capability.”

“And you want to side with a country run by a former KGB agent?” retorted Robert.

“As opposed to what? A country run by old white billionaires and their paid lackeys in Washington?”

“The same goes on in Russia. It’s just overtly backed by the government there.”

She slipped on a pair of shoes that were set on the floor next to the bed. “I’m not going to have a geopolitical discussion with you about the validity of my arguments or positions, Robert.”

“You’ve done incalculable damage to this country’s interests, Susan.”

“Well, as they say, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” said Puller quickly.

“Literally what I just said. You think I’ve been working this hard just to kill your brother? He was a piece, a tiny piece of what’s coming.” She smiled. “If you’re still alive, which I doubt, you’ll never forget it.” She glanced at Robert. “On second thought, I might keep you alive just so you can see it.”

Knox pointed her gun down at Puller’s ankle. “Your throwaway. Take it out, muzzle first, and slide it over to Susan.”

Puller lifted his pant leg, drew out the short-barreled pistol, placed it on the floor, and kicked it over to Reynolds, who reached down and scooped it up.

When Puller straightened Knox said, “Anything you want to say to me, Puller?”

He just stared at her.

Robert looked at Reynolds and said, “I’d like to know how you orchestrated all this tonight.”

Reynolds said, “Easy enough. I came up here. Told Veronica. She informed me that she would have you in hand soon and would bring you to me.”

“So you weren’t being followed?” said Robert.

“No,” said Knox. “That’s just what I told you.”

“How long have you two been working together?” asked Robert.

“Not that long, actually,” said Knox. “But it’s been memorable.” She glanced at Reynolds and smiled. “She’s a great persuader.”

Robert said, “But John picked the sides of the house we were going to attack. So how did you know she’d be in the room you were going to be coming in through?”

Knox shoved Robert toward his brother and then put one of the guns in her jacket pocket. She kept the other one pointed at Puller. She reached into her pocket and held up her phone. “I have bars. I called Susan and told her which side I’d be coming in on after Puller made his decision on that. She just crawled on her stomach to that room. And voilà!”

Robert nodded but said nothing. He snatched a glance at his brother, who had still not taken his eyes off Knox.

“Sure there’s nothing you want to say to me, Puller?” asked Knox tauntingly.

Reynolds said, “I don’t think he can come up with the words, Veronica. I can see in his eyes that he never saw this coming.”

Knox said in an annoyed tone, “You know, you could have told me you were going to take out Carte

r with a bomb. I almost got blown up.”

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