Dale Conley series Box Set 2 by Erik Carter

Author:Erik Carter [Carter, Erik]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-25T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Four

Hot fluid sprayed all over Dale’s face. Terribly hot. And something heavy and hard smashed into his forehead. A piece of Maddox’s skull, no doubt. It brought sharp pain, an instant headache.

Dale staggered back.

Maddox dropped to his knees. His head was destroyed. An absolute ruin. Dale had unfortunately seen more than a couple headshot wounds in his time as a federal agent, all of which had come from standard-size rounds. Clean holes on the entry and, when the bullet didn’t get lodged in the head, larger exit wounds. Sometimes a bit of open cranium.

But whatever had struck Maddox hadn’t been a standard-sized round. It had been something massive. And it absolutely tore the man’s head apart. His red beard was completely missing.

His body dropped from his knees and onto his face.

Or, where the face used to be.

Dale thought of the Special Activities agent and his team that Maddox said had been hunting him. Marcus Sloane, the guy with the widow’s peak Dale had seen in Knoxville.

Maddox had described Sloane as a hunter.

An assassin.

And Dale knew he could be next.

There was a tree to his right. Farther away than he would want, about ten feet. He sprinted to it, plastered his back against it.

He sucked in a few shallow, rapid breaths.

He had his Model 36 in his right hand and the M1911 in his left. He adjusted his grips on both, flicked off the 1911’s safety, and put his index fingers on both triggers. He inched his face just barely around the side of the tree, looking in the direction he thought the shot had come from, ready for the firefight of his life.

But his worry was in vain.

At the top of the hill was a pair of men, and neither one of them was Agent Sloane.

It was Asa Hendrix and Cody Ellis, the latter of whom carried a large rifle.

They descended the steep hill, sliding in the leaves. Hendrix called out to Dale.

“Come on out, Tommy! Didn’t mean to give you such a fright.”

Dale slowly lowered the handguns. Took a breath. And walked back to Maddox’s body. Hendrix and Cody met him there.

Cody held a gigantic, scoped rifle. Massive. Almost as big as he was. Dale didn’t know specifically what kind of rifle it was—the make or the model—but this was something entirely different from your typical Winchester. This was a specialty weapon, something rare, the sort of thing that dickheads on safari use to bring down elephants.

No wonder Maddox’s head had blown up.

Hendrix rolled the body over with his foot. The mangled head revealed itself. He slapped Cody on the back.

“God damn, Cody! You did well, son.” He turned to Dale, looked him up and down. Smiled. “You’re drenched, Tommy. You look like you just stepped out of a horror movie. Like Sissy Spacek. Thanks for catching this son of a bitch for us.”

He looked to Dale’s left hand. At the 1911.

“The guy was armed, huh?” he said. He reached out toward Dale. Expectantly. Wanting the gun.

Dale hesitated for a half moment.

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