Point Blank
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They were close enough to hear Moses coughing, curses spewing out of his mouth as he fired. There was a brief silence when they heard him slam in another clip, and he fired again.
Lights came on in the houses around the square. There were no shadows left anywhere. Claudia hissed out a yell and crawled back to her assault rifle. As she grabbed up the weapon, one of the sharpshooters found her in his sights. There was a loud report as her head exploded and she fell back, dead.
The shooting abruptly stopped because Moses was no longer firing and was no longer in view.
He wasn’t anywhere.
Savich began to run to where he’d last seen Moses bent nearly double with the force of his coughing, fanning his assault rifle, firing until another clip was empty.
He yelled, “Hold your fire!” He was within six feet of where Moses had stood, saw the spent shells but nothing else. He heard a cough and turned sharply to his left, ran toward it. “I can hear you, Moses. In a second I’ll be able to see you, too. You’re not as good as Tammy was.”
A bullet fired, went wide. Savich saw Moses Grace in the next moment, the assault rifle hanging limply in his hand, bent over, moaning, hacking up blood. A large bloodstain was spreading across his belly. Suddenly a fountain of blood gushed out of his mouth. Savich walked over to him and took the rifle out of his hand. “Everyone can see you now, Moses. It’s over.” Savich yelled over his shoulder, “All clear.”
The old man heaved up more blood. He was covered with it now, streaming down his chin. Savich watched him weave, then fall hard to the ground on his side. He groaned as he rolled over onto his back. His eyes stared straight up, locked onto Savich’s face.
His face twisted as he tried to speak, his bloody chest pulsing in frantic breaths. Savich came down on his knees beside him. His blood-drenched mouth opened, and when Savich leaned down close to him, he tried to spit on him. But he no longer had any breath. If he was still aware of where he was, the last thing he saw was twenty FBI agents standing over him.
Savich felt for a pulse in his neck, then shook his head. For a long moment, he stared down at the mad old wreck of a man.
Jimmy Maitland dropped to his knees beside Savich. “Dear Lord, I didn’t know there was this much blood in a human being. Thank God it’s over. Step away, Savich, he’s infected.”
Mr. Maitland rose, Savich coming up slowly to stand beside him. They watched all the men and women highfiving each other. Mr. Maitland shouted, “Okay, boys and girls, let’s get this nightmare wrapped up.”
They could hear sirens in the distance. Mr. Maitland said to Savich, “The media will be here any minute. I hope to God they never find out how you pulled this off. You know what? Even I don’t know how high up the chain of command this one went.” He clapped Savich on the shoulder.
Savich grinned at him. “Worked like a charm, didn’t it?”
Ten minutes later, Jimmy Maitland watched the forensic team carefully bag the bodies of Moses Grace and Claudia Smollett. The police cordoned off the area to keep the homeowners away. Men and women tumbled out of media vans, armed with microphones and cameras. Mr. Maitland watched Savich hug Sherlock and help her into the Volvo. Then he walked around to the driver’s side and climbed in. He imagined Savich wincing as he turned the key on that solid car that was a universe away from his Porsche, and smiled. Then he squared his shoulders and turned to deal with the media.
CHAPTER 36
MAESTRO, VIRGINIA
SUNDAY NOON
THE BOYS HAD wolfed down their first hamburger and baked potato before they stopped talking about the lineup at the Richmond Police Department. It wasn’t until they were building their second hamburgers that Rob started a new topic. “The ice was great on the pond this morning, Dad. We all raced and I won, easy.”
“You only beat me once, Rob, and that’s because you cheated. And the other kids were all twelve years old.”
“What about Pete? He’s a senior, older than me.”
“He’s a spaz, can’t figure out which foot is which.”
Ruth and Dix sat back, half listening, watching the boys eat and argue, mostly both at the same time.
Dix said, “The amazing thing is I can remember when I ate just like that with my brothers.”
She nodded, but she was thinking, and Dix saw it. “We did a lot of good work this morning, Ruth. Give your brain a rest for a while.”
“I can’t.”
Rob said, “Hey, Ruth, do you skate? You think you can beat my little brother? If you do, you can race against me.”
“And the winner of that race will go against me, right?” Dix asked.
Lights came on in the houses around the square. There were no shadows left anywhere. Claudia hissed out a yell and crawled back to her assault rifle. As she grabbed up the weapon, one of the sharpshooters found her in his sights. There was a loud report as her head exploded and she fell back, dead.
The shooting abruptly stopped because Moses was no longer firing and was no longer in view.
He wasn’t anywhere.
Savich began to run to where he’d last seen Moses bent nearly double with the force of his coughing, fanning his assault rifle, firing until another clip was empty.
He yelled, “Hold your fire!” He was within six feet of where Moses had stood, saw the spent shells but nothing else. He heard a cough and turned sharply to his left, ran toward it. “I can hear you, Moses. In a second I’ll be able to see you, too. You’re not as good as Tammy was.”
A bullet fired, went wide. Savich saw Moses Grace in the next moment, the assault rifle hanging limply in his hand, bent over, moaning, hacking up blood. A large bloodstain was spreading across his belly. Suddenly a fountain of blood gushed out of his mouth. Savich walked over to him and took the rifle out of his hand. “Everyone can see you now, Moses. It’s over.” Savich yelled over his shoulder, “All clear.”
The old man heaved up more blood. He was covered with it now, streaming down his chin. Savich watched him weave, then fall hard to the ground on his side. He groaned as he rolled over onto his back. His eyes stared straight up, locked onto Savich’s face.
His face twisted as he tried to speak, his bloody chest pulsing in frantic breaths. Savich came down on his knees beside him. His blood-drenched mouth opened, and when Savich leaned down close to him, he tried to spit on him. But he no longer had any breath. If he was still aware of where he was, the last thing he saw was twenty FBI agents standing over him.
Savich felt for a pulse in his neck, then shook his head. For a long moment, he stared down at the mad old wreck of a man.
Jimmy Maitland dropped to his knees beside Savich. “Dear Lord, I didn’t know there was this much blood in a human being. Thank God it’s over. Step away, Savich, he’s infected.”
Mr. Maitland rose, Savich coming up slowly to stand beside him. They watched all the men and women highfiving each other. Mr. Maitland shouted, “Okay, boys and girls, let’s get this nightmare wrapped up.”
They could hear sirens in the distance. Mr. Maitland said to Savich, “The media will be here any minute. I hope to God they never find out how you pulled this off. You know what? Even I don’t know how high up the chain of command this one went.” He clapped Savich on the shoulder.
Savich grinned at him. “Worked like a charm, didn’t it?”
Ten minutes later, Jimmy Maitland watched the forensic team carefully bag the bodies of Moses Grace and Claudia Smollett. The police cordoned off the area to keep the homeowners away. Men and women tumbled out of media vans, armed with microphones and cameras. Mr. Maitland watched Savich hug Sherlock and help her into the Volvo. Then he walked around to the driver’s side and climbed in. He imagined Savich wincing as he turned the key on that solid car that was a universe away from his Porsche, and smiled. Then he squared his shoulders and turned to deal with the media.
CHAPTER 36
MAESTRO, VIRGINIA
SUNDAY NOON
THE BOYS HAD wolfed down their first hamburger and baked potato before they stopped talking about the lineup at the Richmond Police Department. It wasn’t until they were building their second hamburgers that Rob started a new topic. “The ice was great on the pond this morning, Dad. We all raced and I won, easy.”
“You only beat me once, Rob, and that’s because you cheated. And the other kids were all twelve years old.”
“What about Pete? He’s a senior, older than me.”
“He’s a spaz, can’t figure out which foot is which.”
Ruth and Dix sat back, half listening, watching the boys eat and argue, mostly both at the same time.
Dix said, “The amazing thing is I can remember when I ate just like that with my brothers.”
She nodded, but she was thinking, and Dix saw it. “We did a lot of good work this morning, Ruth. Give your brain a rest for a while.”
“I can’t.”
Rob said, “Hey, Ruth, do you skate? You think you can beat my little brother? If you do, you can race against me.”
“And the winner of that race will go against me, right?” Dix asked.
