Annabel Lee by Mike Nappa

Author:Mike Nappa [Nappa, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC030000, FIC031000, Private investigators—Alabama—Fiction, Suspense fiction, Mystery fiction, Christian fiction
ISBN: 9781493401758
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2016-01-25T05:00:00+00:00

25

The Mute

The Mute watched the Arab crossing the street in front of him and decided it was time to act. He reached under the bench seat of the Wrangler and retrieved his sniper rifle, unlatching the safety without bothering to look at it.

He exited his vehicle, never letting his eyes stray from the figure now walking away from him, carefully choosing appropriate targets on the back of the man’s body. With rubber bullets, he wanted to hinder this guy, not murder him. But it would also have to be enough to stop the threat to the woman. He identified spots that would hurt and temporarily disable but not cause the Arab to lose consciousness.

Kidneys. Back of the neck. Rib cage. Knees.

In the end, he settled on the right kidney, pulling it easily into his sights. He noticed the Arab nearing the front door of Coffey & Hill Investigations, saw the man reach inside his suit coat for what The Mute could only assume was a gun in a shoulder harness.

He fired, one silent crack of thunder that sent a rubber bullet toward its mark.

The Arab responded almost immediately, lurching forward and losing his gun in the process. He dropped to one knee, right hand pressed on his kidney where the bullet had struck. His eyes searched the area but never came in contact with his attacker. The Mute saw him measure the distance to his gun, now on the pavement about three feet away from him, so The Mute fired another shot.

The Arab’s gun sparked and flew down the sidewalk, now well out of reach. The man rolled away from the shot until he was under the cover of the bumper on the silver GT in the parking lot.

Now the question was only this: did this Arab carry two guns or just the one?

The Mute waited. He saw his quarry steal a look out from behind the car and then dart back into cover. The idiot still hadn’t identified where his attacker was stationed.

Amateur, The Mute muttered inside his head. And if he’s an amateur, chances are good that was his only gun.

As if confirming that suspicion, the Arab lunged from behind the car, running toward the handgun on the pavement. The Mute almost laughed. He fired again, one shot into the hand outstretched for the gun on the ground, a second rubber bullet driven into the wobbly knee that tried to retreat after the failure of reaching the gun.

The Arab yelped and collapsed to the ground, where he immediately began crawling until he was safely back under the bumper of the GT.

The Mute heard a stream of profanities fly from behind the car. Then, “Okay, you win! If you wanted me dead, you would have killed me already.” There was a pause, and then hands raised above the sight line of the car. “I’m coming out.”

The Arab stepped unsteadily into view, clearly favoring the left knee that was so recently abused by a rubber bullet. He looked out and around, still unsure where to find his attacker.

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