Dead Men's Dust by Matt Hilton

Author:Matt Hilton
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Thrillers, Suspense, Veterans, Vigilantes, Fiction
ISBN: 0061717142
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2009-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

“Gotcha,” Cain said.

Ambrose crouched down by the flat tire, running his hands over it as though he could magically restore it by touch alone. Unfortunately, he was no sorcerer. Defeated, he stood up with his hands on his hips, and even heard from across the parking lot his language was choice.

It would be so simple to come up behind Ambrose while he was distracted. Push the point of his scaling knife into the juncture of his neck and clavicle. Dig down for the vital organs in one rapturous moment. End him right there and then. At his leisure, Cain could search the dead man’s possessions and regain that which belonged to him.

“Yes, that’s as it could be.”

That

“But, thief, that isn’t how it’s going to be.” wasexactly as his plan had gone. By now it was hours later, his discussion with the dippy receptionist wouldn’t be connected to an apparent mugging gone wrong. Cain could go merrily on his way, his sense of justice appeased.

The enigma of Ambrose’s true identity, and what it was—who it was— he was hiding from, was enough to give pause to anyone with an inquiring mind. And don’t let it be said that Tubal Cain was not a deep thinker. Yes, his needs might be basic, but he thought long on the ways of fulfilling those needs.

His curiosity was more than piqued. It was on turbodrive. He wanted to let this play out a little longer. “Who knows, thief,” he decided, “it might make for an interesting conclusion.”

17events overtook our plan way too quickly for my liking. Not that I was surprised; isn’t that always the way plans go? That’s always been the flaw with our tactics. Murphy’s Law strikes again. It was no longer a case of a one-two move, but a full headlong charge for the top. The man I’d knocked unconscious didn’t give me enough to make a considered judgment. There could be as few as three men with Petoskey or as many as a dozen. Think the worst, and anything else is a bonus. It was a full balls-to-the-wall assault. We headed for the upper floor with our guns blasting. The intent wasn’t to shoot anyone per se, but to cause as much confusion as possible. Petoskey was a rat, and everyone knows what rats do on a sinking ship. I ruled out the fire escape at this corner of the building, guessing that Petoskey would head for the one we’d used to gain access. “I’m going back across, cut off any escape route,” I told Rink. “You okay with that?”

He racked the pump action. “As long as I’ve got ammo, I’ll give ’em hell.” “When the shooting stops, I want you to come up and join me as quickly as you can.”

“Damn, and here was me thinking it was time for a coffee break.”

“After we’re done I’ll buy you coffee and doughnuts.”

“Make ’em jelly doughnuts and you’ve got a deal.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Another volley of fire gained the attention of those on the populated side.

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