Alex Cross 28: Target Alex Cross by James Patterson

Author:James Patterson [Patterson, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

54

COX’S HAND FROZE in mid-reach for his weapon.

“Both guns on the hood,” Franks said. “Don’t screw around. I can do this with you living or dying. Doesn’t matter to me.”

Cox reached in, got out his service weapon, then took a backup from his ankle. He put them on the hood.

“Steady,” Franks said, still aiming across the hood as he took the smaller weapon and put it in his pocket, then squatted and tore Penny’s earbud and radio off his corpse.

“Get in,” Franks said, opening the passenger-side door. “You’re driving.”

Cox said, “Whatever you’re planning—”

“Save it for someone who cares.”

Cox hesitated but then climbed behind the wheel.

Franks got in, nudged aside a closed umbrella on the floor, and shut the door.

“Drive.”

“Where?” Cox said.

“Don’t be cute,” Franks said. “I know the plan. Follow it.”

The Treasury agent made a show of putting the Suburban in gear and then tried to backhand Franks.

The assassin anticipated the move and swatted the blow away, then put the Ruger against Cox’s temple. “I’m so far ahead of you, Agent Cox. Do what I say, and you get to live to see the wife and kids. One more dumb move like that, you won’t.”

The agent was furious but put both hands on the wheel. He drove. His service weapon slid off the hood and clattered onto the parking-garage floor.

They exited the garage into drizzle that had turned to steady rain by the time Cox turned on Broadway, heading south into the financial district.

In Franks’s earbud, a man said, “This is Thomas. Shamrock wants to move.”

“Roger that,” Cox said.

“Minute out,” Franks said.

“Copy.”

Franks said, “When you get there, pull over smooth, put it in park.”

“What the hell are you going to do?”

The assassin said nothing as they rolled to a stop in front of Trinity Episcopal Church. The second Cox put the SUV in park, Franks put his finger in the agent’s free ear, aimed behind Cox’s jaw, and shot him through the top of his spine, killing him instantly.

The shot sounded loud to Franks, but it was buffered by the bulletproof glass; people on the sidewalk, rushing to get out of the rain, didn’t seem to notice. He grabbed the umbrella, stepped out, shut the door, and put the umbrella up just before the front door to the church opened.

A big black man in a suit and trench coat came out, carrying an umbrella above a short, dark-haired Caucasian female in her fifties wearing a long blue rain jacket and pumps. The muscle was taking pelting rain to his eyes.

Franks kept his umbrella tilted to block his face. As the pair crossed the sidewalk, he reached as if to open the rear door and then swung toward the woman and shot her in the face at point-blank range.

The agent exploded toward Franks, slashing the umbrella at him and then getting his shoulder into the assassin, driving him back against the SUV. Franks went ragdoll, as if he’d been stunned.

The second he felt the agent go for the submission, he aimed through the umbrella and fired.

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