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Carlos staggers back, his vest protecting him from serious injury, but the force of my gunshot has surprised him, causing him to drop his pistol. Jeremy ducks and rolls and gets out of my line of fire, and I fire three more times, aiming for Carlos’s unprotected legs and crotch, and he goes down with a loud scream.
I go over, strip him of a knife and spare magazines, see his weapon on the ground, and give it a good kick. Jeremy is now right next to me, also holding a pistol.
“What the hell was that?” he demands, his voice cutting through the ringing in my ears.
Carlos is moaning in pain and I really don’t care. Men from the newly arrived Land Rover are out and desperately working on their injured comrades. I’m in a rotten mood; if anyone comes to help Carlos, I’ll point my pistol at him and tell him to go away and take care of the others first.
“You’re not the only one with backup plans,” I say. “If the van bomb didn’t do the job, Plan B was to have Carlos put a bullet in the back of your head.”
Jeremy takes in the wreckage and Carlos, who is lying on the ground, hands buried in his bloody crotch.
I say, “Somewhere along the line, you must have really pissed off Rashad Hussain. Am I right?”
He just nods, face hard and passive under the floodlight.
“Want to be helpful right now?” I ask.
“Of course.”
“Help me find my other goddamn shoe.”
Chapter48
TOM IStrying so very hard not to panic but he can’t help himself, he’s gone through the gate and he’s looking at the line of students, staring at each and every one of them, wanting to make sure that Denise isn’t hiding, hasn’t switched jackets or backpacks or is standing behind one of the chaperones or one of the teachers, good sweet Lord,Where is my girl?
Bile is filling his throat and mouth, and once again he looks at that calm line of kids ready to depart, and he has to say something—has to go to one of the teachers or chaperones and say,Excuse me, my little girl isn’t here, do you know where she is?
And he hates himself with a dark fury that nearly knocks him back, thinking,You had to go be the brave reporter, had to go confront one of your watchers, leaving your daughter vulnerable.
What were you thinking!
What happened?
One of the crew keeping an eye on him?
A random snatch?
Jesus, someone from a Mexican cartel, looking for revenge for what he and Amy did in Florida and—
How in God’s name will he be able to tell Amy?
“Dad?”
He whirls around, nearly shudders from relief—a wave of love and anger flowing right through him as Denise stands there looking bored.
“Denise,” he says, wanting to yell at her but trying to keep his voice low. Sweet Mother Mary, he’s never once struck his little girl, but the anger in him prompts him to think of giving her a good swat on the butt.
He takes a very deep breath, trying to control his temper. “I told you to stay still! You scared the life out of me!”
Denise shrugs, like he has just told her she forgot to help dry the dishes. “I wasn’t gone long.”
“You weren’t supposed to be gone at all!”
The lead teacher over there—Mrs. Millett—calls out, “Okay, folks, let’s get moving now. Don’t forget, we travel as one…and Tom, Tom Cornwall, since you’re over there, would you mind bringing up the rear with Denise?”
He turns and calls out, “No, not at all.” Then he returns to Denise, standing there by the black iron fence, and says, “When we get home, young lady, we’re going to have—”
“Dad, I know you told me to stand there, but the police officer said he had to talk to me. In private.”
