Robert Ludlum’s™ The Treadstone Transgression by Joshua Hood

Author:Joshua Hood [Hood, Joshua]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781803285740
Publisher: Head of Zeus

28

PORT-AU-PRINCE, HAITI

Her intentions were good, but she made the same mistake he had by reacting to what was in front of her rather than checking all around her. Her shot was perfect, and if Pasquette were not a machete master it would have opened his face like a split lobster. Instead, it collided with his swung blade, bullet shards burning his cheeks and temples, while the rest of the round went whistling into the ceiling.

Carver immediately adjusted her aim as Hayes launched himself toward Bernard, who was also adjusting his aim to the back of the young woman’s head. Hayes couldn’t stop him, but the tips of his fingers connected with the inspector’s gun arm just in time to throw off his balance.

As Carver pulled her trigger for a kill shot, Bernard’s bullet slammed into the edge of her ballistic vest near her arm. One millimeter more to the right, and it would’ve shattered her shoulder. As it was, it threw her second shot from the thickest part of Pasquette’s torso into the wall a foot away from him.

Bernard, like the survivor he was, instantly reacted to Hayes’s charge. He let Hayes’s push spin him all the way around, and he kept turning until he was one step out of the room and had yanked the open door between him and Hayes. For an instant, Hayes considered slamming the door into him, but there were already two more pressing distractions to take into account.

First, the aftermath of Bernard’s shot. It may not have ruined Carver’s arm, but it numbed—even deadened—it very effectively, and she watched, with growing dismay, as her fingers, against her will, slackened, and her SIG started to drop out of her grip. And second, Hayes watched Pasquette surge toward her, his machete coming down at her skull for a cleaving kill.

Hayes would normally have weighed his priorities, making a split-second decision as to which was the best choice for his survival and the completion of his mission. But all that went out the window when suddenly, in a mental lightning bolt, Dallys Carver suddenly became, in his mind’s eye, Annabelle.

As his inner voice roared, Hayes launched himself like an eight-foot-two javelin, directly at the Haitian Intelligence Service director. If he had taken even a second to grab his gun or any other weapon, Carver’s head would have already looked like a wishbone after Thanksgiving dinner.

Instead, Hayes slammed into Pasquette the best way he possibly could have in the circumstances. His tough, thick neck was wedged into the Haitian’s upraised machete underarm, so centrifugal force wouldn’t allow the blade to come down on his neck or back.

Hayes’s arms were locked around the man, his right fist clenched in Pasquette’s hair, his left knuckles deep in the man’s back, pressing as hard as he could on his left kidney. His jump was so strong that he brought Pasquette completely off the floor.

Carver watched in horror as the two men went irreversibly back, framed in the big window. Her gun hit the floor and skittered away.

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