The Goodbye Man
- Автор: Дивер Джеффри
- Серия: Colter Shaw #2
- Год: 2020
- Язык: английский
- Год: G. P. Putnam’s Sons
- ISBN: 978-0-525-53597-3
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «The Goodbye Man». Краткое содержание книги:
65
Sprinting.
Shaw couldn’t see Eli and Hugh ahead, though the two couldn’t be far. If he was lucky he’d catch up to the men near Shaw’s dorm, where the war club still lay.
Then: a flash of white. Yes, up ahead, there they were, Hugh and Eli, still alone, moving north toward the Administration building. Shaw slipped off the path into the forest to the east, where he could use trees and brush for cover as he closed the distance to his targets.
Hugh was right. The Foundation was over. Even if some still desired to believe, the precarious fantasy Eli had spun was shattered. That Eli had a go-bag in his basement meant he had an escape plan. He and Hugh would get away, leaving the remaining AUs to barricade the camp. When the police arrived, they would buy time for their boss by telling the tactical forces and negotiators that he was still here. Maybe one would pretend to be him. This would keep the authorities tied up for hours, days maybe, while the cult leader fled the country. With his resources, Eli surely had access to a private jet.
Shaw was sticking to the thickets of brush along the hidden path. He realized he’d intercept them just before they made it to the Assistance Unit. Eli and Hugh were looking back occasionally and, not seeing Shaw, would assume he was still with Anja, trying to keep her alive. Eli had probably ordered Timothy to attack the woman partially to keep Shaw occupied while they made their escape.
Shaw decided he would have to forgo the club; he couldn’t afford the time it would take to grab it. He’d continue after the two men, come up quietly, then attack. Hugh would have to go down first, of course; a hard tackle, a paralyzing knee to the solar plexus, then a frisk for a gun. He guessed that wouldn’t stop Eli, who would, in an instant, leave his friend behind and run. Shaw would have to pursue on foot and disable him too. Hugh would have zip ties; Shaw would use those to bind both men and drag them in the woods until he could get a phone.
He gave the plan a seventy percent chance of working. He hurried through the brush until he was only about thirty feet from the men, who seemed wholly unaware of his presence.
He felt confident he could take them by surprise. Make it eighty percent.
And those odds held right up to the instant two AUs from the front and two from behind rushed him.
Shaw understood why the foursome had gotten so close without his seeing. He’d been looking for gray tunics; these men were in the camo that Frederick had mentioned. Those from the rear slammed into Shaw hard. He went down, flat, breath kicked from his lungs. Before he could struggle upright, his hands were zip-tied behind him and he was being pulled to his feet.
“Jesus. What’s with the blood? Is he dying?”
“Listen to me,” Shaw said, gasping. “It’s over. The police’re—”
“Shut up!”
“If you want to—”
The blow to the gut was delivered by the apparent leader of the band, a broad, freckle-faced man with fiery red hair. Shaw struggled to keep from vomiting.
“What now?” one asked.
Red told him, “Journeyman Hugh said make it look like an accident. Like he fell and broke his leg and the animals got him. Great Bear Notch is the closest. Let’s go. He gives you any shit, hit him again.”
66
Shaw, hands zip-tied, and his four captors were now about a hundred yards from the camp. Not far from the escape route to the state highway where — he hoped — Victoria and Frederick had scored a phone and were presently giving tactical information to the FBI and the state police.
Red pointed. “There. I think it’s that way.”
Shaw could see the trees ending about fifty yards ahead, the forest yielding to rocky outcroppings.
“What’s the Notch?” somebody asked.
Red said, “It’s like a cave. Wolves go there. Mountain lions.”
“Why’s it called Bear Notch?” a broad-chested man, balding, and with a prominent scar on his neck and ear, asked.
Red rolled his eyes. “They got fucking bear there too. Happy?”
“Just asking.”
“Weird place. Lot of bones. Stinks. We get him down there, fuck him up and leave him. Like he fell and broke a leg. Couldn’t get out.”
So, Shaw decided, he’d run. When they neared the Notch, the AUs would grow distracted, looking for the best place to lead him into the gully. As soon as they paused, he would stop suddenly and pull away from the one that seemed the weakest — a slim blond man. The assailant would react by tugging him back. Shaw would then launch himself in the young man’s direction, with a headbutt and knee to the crotch. He’d then run flat out into the deepest part of the woods. They’d follow for a time but would grow uneasy, afraid they’d get lost, especially if they split up, which would be the most logical way to pursue him.
Woods like these? In the summer? He’d have a ninety-five percent chance of survival. He’d have to saw off the zip tie but given the amount of rock in the vicinity that shouldn’t take long.
He gave a cynical laugh to himself. Yes, ninety-five percent chance of surviving in the wood. But there was the caveat: if he escaped from four fit men, presumably armed with knives, as Timothy had been. Maybe a Taser. A firearm was another possibility. The chance of him getting away from them? Make it thirty-five percent.
Then again, thirty-five was as good as a hundred, if you had no other options.
Red, in the lead, held up a hand, signaling them to stop. He was former military, the gesture told Shaw. Discouraging. He’d have some hand-to-hand combat skills. He looked to the right, where fifty feet away Shaw could see the cliff edge. “Over there, I think. That’s it. Brad, with me.”
Leaving only the two guards on Shaw. Good.
As Red and Brad started through the woods, Shaw braced, preparing to tug, lunge, break his prey’s nose and then run.
Red, though, looked back. He squinted and returned. He crouched behind Shaw, who could only sigh as he felt a zip tie ratcheting into place on his ankles.
Hog-tied.
No sprint.
67
Brad and Red returned from the cliff’s edge to Shaw, Blond and Scar.
“It’s there,” Red told the others. “Like a pit, ten feet deep maybe. Stinks like a butcher shop.”
“Made me dizzy,” Brad said.
Shaw said, “You saw the helicopter. California Highway Patrol and detectives from San Francisco. They’re investigating Eli for murder. You’re accomplices.”
“Quiet down,” Red said.
“You cooperate, I talk to the prosecutor. He’ll cut a deal.”
“We didn’t do shit,” Red told him. “We’re just rent-a-cops, wearing these stupid uniforms.”
“Well, you’re doing shit now,” Shaw said. “It’s already kidnapping. And pretty soon, it’s going to be murder.”
Red muttered, “You don’t know Hugh. He’s not somebody you want to fuck over.”
“All right, well, let me tell you this. If he wants an accident, then the zip ties have to come off. When the FBI finds my body, they’ll find the ties. Even after the animals get to me.”
The men were silent, Brad and Blond glancing toward Red.
“FBI?” Blond asked.
Red: “Shut up.”
“They already have your fingerprints and DNA all over them. So they have to go. And I’ll tell you this, whoever cuts them off... you’re going to die.” Shaw kept his eye on Blond. His voice was calm as the breeze around them. “I will crush your throat the instant my hands are free.”
Scar said, “Maybe he knows some shit like Hugh. That karate.”
“He doesn’t know anything.”