Whitewater (Rachel Hatch Book 6) by L.T. Ryan & Brian Shea

Author:L.T. Ryan & Brian Shea [Ryan, L.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Liquid Mind Media
Published: 2021-03-01T22:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Four

The large Cypress painted her in its dark shadow, further masking Hatch's approach under the cloud covered moon above. The man positioned on the back corner of Ernesto's house had radioed to Munoz, letting him know there was no back door access. She heard Munoz's response and understood enough of it to know he told the fat policeman to hold the corner and wait.

He took an interest in the window she'd just escaped from and walked to it. Standing beside the bike she'd soared over, he looked up and lowered, but did not holster, the semi-automatic pistol in his right hand. He was shorter than the bottom lip of the windowsill by a few inches. He forced the balls of his feet to endure the brunt his weight as he pushed himself up on his tiptoes.

The large man wobbled on his stilted toes as he peered in the window. He holstered his weapon to pull out the radio positioned behind it on his patrol belt. The heavyset cop didn't have a lapel microphone attached and had to unclip his radio each time he needed to use it, which this time, he didn't get to do.

While the officer was engaged in a tug of war over his radio with impressive girth spilled out atop of it, Hatch struck the butt end of her pistol against the base of his skull. He fell to ground knocking over the bike she'd narrowly avoided. It clattered loudly in the silent countdown Munoz had given.

Hatch quickly used the man's two pair of cuffs to bind each wrist to his opposite ankle, the crisscrossed shackles rattled as the unconscious man now lay hogtied where he fell. She stuffed his wallet in his mouth and unholstered his pistol and tossed it in the bathroom window. Hatch hoped, should she not make it, the gun would provide Ayala and the others another option before submitting to the hitmen. Hatch hoped they never had to find it.

The gun landed softly on the towels Josefina had set out for Letty. Hatch rounded the other side of the small house, staying out of the light emanating from the patrol cars parked in front. She used the trees as cover while she snaked her way through the darkness, leading up to the other men holding the good people inside hostage.

When she heard Munoz speak again, she realized he hadn't heard the crash of the bicycle, or at least made no mention of it when he spoke next.

"You have offended the courtesy of my offer by not accepting it." He sounded genuinely disappointed. Maybe this tactic had worked in times' past. But to lay one's self at the feet of their killer is what sheep do. And she was no sheep. Rachel Hatch was a wolf. And wolves don't lay in wait. They hunt.

"Sadly, Miss Nighthawk, we must do it the hard way. I take no comfort in saying this, but you have chosen a painful death, one that will go on hours longer than it should, and one that you could have avoided for the innocent people inside.

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