Cottonwood Heights
Kate jumped the railing on the second floor, landing a short distance behind him. Francis, firing off two quick shots and forcing Kate to scramble back. She slapped his gun to the side and ducked, hitting him with a tackle.
They both rolled down the stairs in a heap, grunting from the rough stairs. She busted her hand pretty good but managed to keep a grip on her pistol.
He kneed her in the stomach, and she kicked his ankle as they rolled apart. He fired again then dropped over the railing to the bottom floor below. He fired up at her but then his gun clicked empty.
Kate dove after him, landing hard on the cement floor, and raised her gun. Francis sprinted for the exit and she fired again, hitting him in the hip. He staggered into the wall and disappeared around the corner.
She chased him. As soon as she stepped outside he ambushed her, swinging a wooden beam at her head. She ducked and stepped back, dodging another clumsy attack.
He pursued her, staggering forward and swinging the beam, and she kept backpedaling, knowing he wouldn’t be able to go for long.
He hit the doorway behind her, dropped the beam, and punched her in the shoulder. She rolled with the punch, stepped in, and kicked his knee. He went down and she punched out for his hip, hoping to hit him where the bullet lodged.
He was quicker than she expected, though, and instead she felt him hit her in the neck. She staggered to the ground, rolling away from him and then swept his legs. He went down hard with a groan and she rolled away from him.
She rolled to her feet, grabbed the beam, and brought it down hard against his knee, shattering it. He screamed in pain, clutching the broken tendons.
“Don’t move,” she said, picking up her gun and leveling it at him.
“What do you want?” he asked, choking and sobbing from the pain.
“Where is Victor?” she asked.
“You think I would tell you?”
“No, I didn’t really think you would,” she said. “Just had to ask.”
She pulled the trigger, putting a bullet right between his eyes.
2
Jack slipped into the apartment building on the first floor and looked around. It was well maintained and bustling with activity. Several sleepy looking people sat in the foyer and some kids were in the corner playing a game.
He wandered down the hallway. A lot of people gave him curious glances, knowing he was an outsider in multiple cases.
Once he turned the corner into a fairly empty hallway, he glanced around until he saw a fire alarm. He walked over to it casually, lifted the flap and pulled it down, then kept walking down the hall. The alarm started blaring, ringing through the hallway.
It was also attached to the sprinklers and suddenly they released, raining water down on the hallway. He was soaked in seconds.
He heard people shouting behind him and kept walking, heading for the exit. A door opened up beside him and an old man peeked out. The man asked him something in a language he didn’t understand, then in English said, “What’s going on?”
Jack opened his mouth to speak just as the gunshot went off.
He didn’t know he’d been hit right away. The bullet clipped his shoulder, but he heard the roar from the hand cannon behind him in the hallway. He turned and saw the huge man who had helped kidnap him standing there. Kate had told him the brute’s name was William.
William had just rounded the corner behind him. He was holding a massive gun and looked pissed off.
Jack didn’t think, just reacted. He dove to the side, pushing past the old man into the apartment just as the gun roared again. It took out a sizeable chunk of the wall but didn’t hit him.
Then he was inside the room. He dodged around a coffee table into the kitchen. The old man was yelling at him and the alarm continued to blare.
He heard William crash into the room a second later, shouting curses. Another gunshot, well behind Jack, and he ducked into a side room. He bumped into a cabinet, knocking glass sculptures all over the floor and then pushed the entire thing over to partially block the doorway.
Then he ran to the window and slid it open. He felt his heart thumping in his chest and it seemed like he needed to vomit, but he forced himself to keep moving.
He got the window open and slipped outside just as William came into sight. He glanced back and saw the huge man shouting and raising his pistol.
But, more disconcerting, Jack saw blood smeared all over the windowsill behind him.
His blood.
He ducked around the corner just as William shot again, sending up flashes of debris into his face as the bullet smashed through the wall.
People were shouting and flooding outside, some pointed in his direction. A woman screamed.
Dripping water and blood and shoulder throbbing, Jack stumbled down the road and away from William.
3
Kate heard the gunshots and knew Jack was in trouble. She desperately wanted to go check on Lyle, who she feared might be dying on the stairs above her, but she knew if she left Jack alone he would be dead in only moments. She hurried back into the building to the foot of the stairs.
“Stay awake, Lyle,” she shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Whatever you do, stay conscious.”
Then she ran back out into the sun. She jumped into the car and sped down the road, heading for where she heard the gunshots.
4
Jack was exhausted, feeling his adrenaline wearing out. His arm hurt and his shirt was matted against his body. William wouldn’t stop coming. Just shouting behind him. They had been running for little longer than a minute through the streets and alleys, but the high intensity was debilitating.
William behind him wasn’t doing so hot either. He’d run out of bullets, wasting all of his shots and then thrown the gun away. Now he was focused entirely on catching Jack.
“Come back here, you little worm!” William shouted, chasing him back out to the main thoroughfare. Jack staggered along, dodging pedestrians and holding his arm.
Sirens blared some distance away, but Jack knew it would be a while before they arrived. Too long to help him.
He turned down another alley. As soon as he had stepped a few feet in he knew he’d made a mistake. It dead ended about a quarter of a mile at a brick wall. He knew it was too late to turn back, though, because William was only a few steps behind him.
He knocked over a stack of boxes leaning against a trash can, hoping to block the way. But they were empty boxes, too light to cause real obstruction. William plowed right through them, grunting.
Jack saw a fire escape ladder, but it was out of reach. There was a trashcan nearby he could use to jump up to the ladder. He slid it into space, climbed awkwardly on top and then jumped up to grab the ladder with his good arm.
It held for a second before releasing the clasp and sliding down. Jack held on for a second, then it jolted about halfway down and he fell loose.
He hit the ground with a loud expulsion of air, groaning and rolled to his feet. William stopped a few feet short and burst out laughing.
“Didn’t think that through, did you?”
Jack rolled awkwardly to his feet, picking up the lid of the trashcan. He held it in front of him like a shield, keeping it between him and William.
“Stay back,” he muttered, panting.
William laughed again. “What are you going to do with that?”
“I saw Captain America,” Jack said. “I know how to use this.”
“I’m going to shove that shield so far up—”
The sound of a car roaring around the corner filled the alley. William turned just in time to see a little brown vehicle come flying forward. It slammed into him with a resounding thud, sending him rolling down the alley in a heap.
Jack stood near the wall, panting, as William came to a stop in front of him. He was groaning and shifting but barely able to move. The burly man looked half delirious as he tried to stand.
Jack hit him in the head with his trash can shield, knocking him back down. Blood spurted from his nose, and Jack was fairly certain he’d broken it.
Kate climbed out of the car and walked over to William, carrying a pistol. The sirens were getting closer but still too far away.
“You look like hell,” she mentioned to Jack as she passed.
“You don’t exactly look perfect yourself,” he said. She had a bloody lip and look scuffed up like she’d been in a fight.
She shrugged. “I guess it’s just one of those days.”
William was rolling, clutching his broken nose. She stepped on his leg as he tried to crawl away and pressed the end of the pistol against his head. He roared in pain but fell silent when he felt the gun.
“Francis is already dead,” Kate said. “So you have two seconds to tell me where Victor is, Bill.”
