The Day Before Midnight by Stephen Hunter

Author:Stephen Hunter
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Terrorists - Soviet Union, Special forces (Military science), Espionage, Terrorists, Special forces (Military science) - United States, Fiction, Suspense, Adventure fiction, Technological, Thrillers, General, Nuclear terrorism, Terrorists - United States, Nuclear warfare
ISBN: 9780553282351
Publisher: Random House, Inc.
Published: 1989-12-01T07:18:00.886655+00:00

Uckley panicked as the bullet came plowing his way. It smashed against the wall behind him, showering him with dust. Two more shots came and he drew back. Then he plunged forward, firing wildly, insanely, six fast blasts with the Smith until he’d reached a doorway across the hall. He got out a speed loader, popped open his cylinder, ejected six shells, set the nose of the new rounds in their chamber, twisted it to free them, then snapped the cylinder shut. He got out the .45 from his belt and thumbed off what he took to be the oversize safety. It was a new gun to him; he wasn’t especially sure how it worked, and so it scared him. He peeked down the hall, saw only darkness.

“Mommy,” somebody called. “Mommy, help me.”

Oh, shit, Uckley thought. Then in his peripheral vision something flashed and he flinched, ducked back, aware from the buck and the blast that he’d fired the .45, one reflex shot (it had been so easy).

It was the mother. She’d come up the steps. He hadn’t heard her, it wasn’t his fault! He’d told her to get out. He looked at her. She’d sat down against the wall, her legs weirdly akimbo. Her head hung forward in a way no living person’s would hang. There was a lot of blood on her.

Oh, no, goddammit, goddammit, oh, shit, I shot the woman!

He stared at her, ashamed and disgusted. The gunsmoke reached his nose, acrid and dense.

I told you not to come up, he felt himself screaming. I didn’t hear you! I didn’t hear you!

Footsteps clambered at him.

Uckley spun, dropped to a knee, found the target picture and—

It was a child on churning legs, just a small shape in the darkness, screaming “Mommy” and coming at him.

“Get back,” he shouted, because behind the child now he saw another shape from another dark doorway, leaning out with a pistol.

Uckley dived.

He hit the little girl.

“Get down, get down, get down,” he screamed, louder than she did. He hit his head on the wall, a stunning blow. His weapons dropped away. He felt the girl squirming under him. He heard footsteps.

The man stood over him.

The little girl was screaming, “Mommy, Mommy, my mommy is dead!”

Uckley held her tight to him.

He looked up.

The man, bleeding badly, stood over him. He was a heavy blond guy with a crew cut and a thick face.

“Let the kid go, for Christ’s sake, let the kid go,” Uckley begged.

The man turned and walked away. Uckley said to the girl, “Run downstairs. Run, now!”

He picked up the pieces, and with a gun in both hands he started down the hall.

Then he heard the shot.

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