Double-Back (Jake Waters Book 3) (35 page)

Unfortunately, while this was happening, the second man also turned to shoot, and by the time Laney had finished dealing with the faster of the two men, the second was lined up for a shot. A quick side step as he adjusted his aim probably saved Laney's life, but the bullet still hit his left thigh although it missed the femur.  The hammer-blow and resulting sudden onset of pain didn't help Laney's aim any, and his return fire only clipped the man's shoulder, fortunately knocking the weapon from his grasp as it absorbed the majority of the hits from the multiple pellets from the round. 

Laney tumbled to the ground, unable to support himself on the damaged leg, scrambling to keep his weapon trained on the surviving member of the pair who was frozen in place by the muzzle pointed at him.

"Solly," Jim yelled, seeing the two retired agents were covering a single man.  "Come here and give me a hand," he shouted.

Sol looked over and realized the problem, quickly scurrying over to a point he could cover the gunman, kicking the damaged weapon out of his reach.

"Are you okay?" he shouted toward Laney.

"Shot in the leg," Laney replied.  "I don't think anything major has been hit."

As he spoke he used his belt to tie off the leg to staunch the flow of blood.  He'd be glad when this was over and Jake could loop back so this never happened.

His Sig in hand, Jake was about to move toward the brush where the second gunman had taken cover earlier in the day.  He stood from his concealed position in the brush as he attempted to work his way into the open when he realized that a couple of runners were charging toward him.  His eyes and handgun shifted toward the motion he'd sensed via his peripheral vision.

The two women he'd watched earlier in the day were rapidly closing on this position.  Each had a diminutive pistol grasped in her hand, and they were attempting to get close enough the tiny weapons would be effective.  One was already raising the gun she held up to eye level in an attempt to take aim, and the other was attempting to get closer before triggering off a shot.

Shifting to a two-handed hold, Jake quickly fired once at the one who was aiming his way, the double action effort of the Sig's first shot requiring him to focus more intently on his hold than usual.  Fortunately, his aim was true, and the large .45 slug struck the attractive blond in the center of her chest, stunning her and preventing her from firing at him.  Then she crumpled, dropping her weapon as she died.

The second woman, shorter, heavier, and not nearly as attractive as her dead companion hadn't attempted to run, and as Jake adjusted his aim and triggered a quick double tap, managed to fire a pair of shots of her own.  The first snapped through the brush to his right, clipping a couple of branches, but the second caught him along the ribs.  He hissed loudly at the impact, and felt his aim waiver, but fortunately the double tap was good, taking the woman out of the game.

Heaving a sigh of relief at the close call, Jake turned to look toward the man he'd seen scrambling out of the brush to chase after Tony.  Now he was out of sight.  Jake stepped forward to head that direction when something slapped him hard in the side of his head and all went black.

Norm scrambled through the brush following after Paul Martin.  He couldn't see the man, and the ground was hard enough that he couldn't spot any footprints to follow.  He'd seen Martin leave the trail before he lost sight of him, and assuming he wasn't setting an ambush for him, Martin must be headed toward the spot Jake had said their sniper had set up.  Norm mentally crossed his fingers, and charged boldly through the undergrowth, his M4 held two-handed and ready for action.

Norm could hear the shooting off to the right and ahead of him, and wondered how things were going.  If Jake was right, then Susan's shooting the Rineri woman would mean these people wouldn't be able to escape the consequences of this attack, and Jake would finally hold the winning hand against these people.

Then he spotted Martin.  He had pushed the body of their sniper to one side and was holding the sniper rifle like a Camp Perry shooter, sighting at something Norm could vaguely see a couple of hundred yards distant.  Not waiting to see who the man was aiming at, Norm fired a quick three-round burst which he could see striking home, but Martin still managed to trigger a shot before he dropped the rifle and fell to the ground.  Norm ran over and kicked the rifle away from Martin, who was still alive, but from the nature of the wounds probably wouldn't last until medical aid could arrive.

"You're too late," Paul said, blood trickling from his mouth.  "You tricked us, but I still got him."

Just as Martin finished speaking, Susan arrived at Norm's side, her M4 pointing toward the man on the ground.

"I think he shot Jake," Norm said, looking into the distance where he could see someone laying on the ground near where Jake was supposed to have taken a position.

"Jake!" Susan screamed, and seeing Norm had matters under control, took off in that direction.  The shooting had stopped, and she could see Solly, Lester and Jim guarding prisoners.  She had no idea where Tony might be.  Sirens could be heard in the distance as the local police responded to the sounds of weapon fire.

When Susan reached Jake's location, she could see he'd been shot in the head.  There was a lot of blood and she was certain he was dead, but when she bent down to check, he groaned and moved slightly.

"Jake?" she asked hopefully.

He groaned again, and she watched as a hand came up to his head and came away bloody.

"Don't move," she instructed, and fetched a large handkerchief from a pocket and used it to wipe away some of the blood.  She found a furrow along his skull that was bleeding heavily, but the wound didn't appear to penetrate into his head.  She held the cloth tight against the wound to contain the bleeding, and waited for the police to arrive.

It took some time to sort matters out with the police and establish that most of the survivors were FBI agents.  It took even longer to get ambulances to arrive, but eventually prisoners were being taken away, and Jake and Paul Martin were being loaded into ambulances.  Both were conscious, as was Jim Laney who was sitting with a bandaged leg in the ambulance that Jake was about to be loaded into, but the medics didn't give Martin much chance of making it to the hospital. 

Paul Martin looked at Jake and said, "Natalie beat you.  She saw you dead.  All of you, but I apparently convinced her to come back to this time and we'd deal with you when we could prevent things from getting out of hand.  My mistake.  You got lucky."

Then he died.

"You say Natalie got away?" Jake asked Susan.  "Why hasn't she acted?"

"I shot her solidly," Susan said apologetically.  "I saw the bullets strike, and she collapsed bleeding.  I should have gone and made certain, but with all hell breaking loose, I couldn't leave the rest of you to fight it out.  I was worried about Norm charging into the trees the way he did.  When we went back, she was gone.  There was a lot of blood, and a bullet-proof vest with a hard plate in it.  She must have been wearing it.  A bullet was stuck in the material in the center of the chest.  I'm guessing that was the round that went through the car frame before it struck her.  That must have slowed it enough.  There was a lot of blood on the side, and I'm guessing my other shot hit her there.  She's in bad shape, but not so bad she couldn't get away." 

Susan had said Natalie had hit the pavement hard when she fell.  Maybe that was the reason she hadn't Back-Tracked.  Of course, Jake might be wrong and she wasn't their Back-Tracker after all.  But that didn't appear to be the case.  Martin had said that she had seen him dead, which implied she was the the one they sought.  Time would tell, but for the moment Jake was at a serious disadvantage.  The whack on the head hurt like hell, and he was unable to initiate any Back-Tracking himself.  This had happened to him before when he'd been struck on the head, and he knew it could be several weeks before he regained the ability.  They'd have to hope that wherever she was, Natalie didn't have her own ability soon.

Early Sunday Afternoon

May 15

Natalie cried out as the pain from her wounds brought her back to consciousness.  She was fortunate that for the moment, no one was close enough to hear her moans of distress.  Had those who shot her been close, the whimpering sounds would have earned her another bullet or two as they acted to ensure that she couldn't use her gift to escape this disastrous situation.

She was conscious with enough presence of mind to understand the situation.  They had been waiting.  Despite everything Paul had promised, they had known about the attack and used the situation to set up their own ambush.  She was certain they knew about her as well.  The other Backslider, the one known as Bob Trask or Jake Waters, must have looped back from some time in the next week after learning her identity.  He must have also detected the change in events, which had warned him that something was being planned.  She had been right, for what little good the knowledge would do her.  They should have let the matter stand when they had won. Now it appeared they were going to be the losers.

She knew what the shots she was hearing meant.  Her friends were dead, or soon would be.  Paul hadn't returned, which indicated something must have happened to him as well.  He wasn't supposed to go into the park and join the confrontation.  The plan had been for someone to come to him and inform him the attack had been successful.  When she had seen him charge off, weapon in hand, she'd had a bad feeling of what was coming.  Then she had been struck hard by something.  Now she knew she'd been shot.

She'd warned Paul that she lacked any ability to trigger a Backslide to escape the situation.  When they had arrived she had just the faintest sense of her earlier self in the back of her mind.  The sense didn't reach back more than half an hour, and certainly hadn't been strong enough to form a link she could grasp and act upon.  Now even that was gone.  The pain and shock of being hurt must be responsible.  Now, the only hope for her, and the others, would be for her to somehow escape, heal, and regain enough of her ability she could loop back and prevent Paul and the others from engaging in this attack.

Somehow she managed to push herself to a sitting position, as waves of pain threatened to cause her to pass out again.  No one was paying her any attention, which probably meant they believed she was dead.  She felt close to that.  Her chest felt as if someone had hit her with a club, and her side was on fire.  She looked down and almost fainted at the amount of blood that soaked her blouse and slacks.

Unable to stand for the moment, she slipped out of the once elegant jacket that covered her blouse, and then unlatched the tactical vest that Paul had forced her to wear.  With the stiff and uncomfortable hard plate in place, it had been a clumsy and heavy fit, but apparently had saved her life.  She could see the torn fabric in the center of the vest and the shiny hint of coppery metal welded into the protective plate.  That must be why her chest hurt so.  Lower down, the side of the vest was red with her blood where the bullet had caught her side where the hard plate hadn't covered her.

With a final groan as she shed the protective device, she stripped off her scarf and wrapped it around her waist hoping to staunch the flow of blood somewhat.  She could tell that she was still bleeding, but was afraid to look.  She really didn't want to know how badly.  There was nothing she could do about it here anyway.  Which meant she had to find a way to get some help.

The car she'd come in wasn't going to be of any use to her.  She doubted she could drive even if Paul hadn't taken the keys with him.  Her only chance would be to make her way out of the parking lot, out into the street area and hope that someone would spot her and offer to take her to the hospital.  Grabbing the handle of the car door, she attempted to pull herself erect, but halfway up, she hissed loudly and allowed herself to sink back down to the pavement. 

Crawl then
, she concluded.

She was about to attempt to do just that when she heard the sound of car tires coming into the parking area.  At first she feared it was someone coming for her, but then the sounds of music thumping loudly from the speakers caught her ears and she decided it was someone coming to use the park.  Looking around the back of the car, she spotted a lean young man with a ponytail, wearing jogging shorts climbing out of the vehicle.

With a kick, she pushed the bloodied vest under the car where it wouldn't be seen.  Then she cried out.

"Help!" she yelled, much weaker than she'd hoped.

It was enough.  The young man looked her way, and after a moment's hesitation came over to check.

"My god, what happened to you?" he asked, seeing the blood on the ground and the amount that had soaked her clothes.

"Shot," she said.  "Something happening in the park.

As if to validate her claim, the sharp crack of another weapon being fired echoed from beyond the trees.

"I need a hospital," Natalie cried.  "Please."

The man looked in the direction of the gunshot, then hurriedly bent down and wrapping his arms around her, lifted her and carried her toward his vehicle.  Once there he helped her stand while he unlocked the door. 

"Wait a moment," he directed, while he retrieved a blanket from the trunk, which he spread over the seat.  Then he helped her inside.  She hissed in pain, and cried out more than once before she was inside the car.  Moments later they were on the way, the dangerous park receding behind them.

She had escaped, Natalie realized.  Assuming she hadn't been seen, her enemies wouldn't know anything of the car she was in.  Now she simply had to survive and recover, and hopefully all of this could be made to go away.

"Don't worry," her savior was saying.  "There is a small hospital just a few blocks away."

Natalie knew that a hospital wasn't the answer.  Under normal conditions she might be arrested and held until her situation could be understood, which would have been okay because once she had recovered enough she would have used her Backslide ability to escape.  But those after her would be certain to check all of the hospitals, especially anything close.  She needed a different kind of help.  There was only one person who could offer what she required.  And this young man was going to have to get her there.

She reached into the side pocket of her slacks for the tiny semiautomatic pistol that Paul had given her.  Checking to be certain the small safety was disengaged, she pointed it toward the driver.

"No hospital," she said.  "We are going someplace different."

Something in her voice caused the young man to look her way.  His face visibly paled when he saw the small gun in her hand.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a voice that revealed his fear.  "I'm helping you."

"I appreciate that, but I can't go to the hospital.  There are people after me, and they'd find me there.  You are going to take me where I tell you.  Understand?"

Eyes wide, the jogger nodded. 

"Sure.  Whatever you say.  Just be careful with that thing."

Natalie fought against the pain and the growing lightheadedness as she directed the driver through the city to the estate she and Paul last visited this coming Wednesday.  After what seemed like an impossibly long drive, she spotted the familiar gate ahead of them.

"Pull in there," she directed.

Bringing the car to a stop in front of the gate, the young man honked his horn to get attention, not that it was necessary.  Two of the guards were already coming out to check on the car.

"What do you want?" the bigger of the two guards asked, then stared at the blood and the woman with the gun pointed at the driver.  He started to reach for his own weapon, then hesitated, not sure if such an action might cause the woman to shoot.

"Tell Carlos that Natalie Rineri is out here.  I'm Paul Martin's girlfriend.  I've been shot and need help.  Hurry!" she commanded.

The guard took another look, spotting the blood and seeing the situation.

"Wait," he said, and turned back toward the gatehouse.

It seemed like an hour to Natalie before the gate was opened, and the guard directed the driver to drive to the side of the house.  People would be waiting there for them.

When they arrived, more men with guns were waiting, and while Natalie was helped out of the car, relieved of her weapon,  and directed into the house, while the unfortunate young man was held at gunpoint until Carlos decided what was to be done with him.  Inside, Natalie was taken down the stairs to a large room equipped to handle such problems.  It seemed that Uncle Carlos must sometimes have help that needed the same kind of care.

One of the maids came and helped strip off the blouse, and began cleaning up the wound, pressing a large gauze pad against the wound to help stop the flow of blood.  She also gave Natalie a shot of something.  While this was going on, Uncle Carlos stepped into the room, unconcerned that Natalie was half undressed.

"What happened?" he asked as the maid who was playing nurse continued to work on the wound.

"We were ambushed," Natalie said, her voice weak as she fought to stay conscious.  "Paul, Jeff, and several others.  Paul wanted to kill someone who was preventing us from dealing with the FBI agent named Carlson.  But they were there waiting."

"Where's Paul?" Carlos asked.

"Dead," Natalie said, even though she wasn't certain, but suspected that was the case.  They had shot her outright and probably had done the same to the others.  "My brother Jeff also."

Carlos cursed loudly in Italian.

"I warned him this wasn't something for him to become involved in," Carlos said.  "Do you know what that boy meant to me?  My own son was killed more than ten years ago.  Paul was like my own son.  I was grooming him to be my replacement, and now you got him killed."

Natalie could sense the hostility in Carlos.

"I can fix it," she said.  "I just need time to get strong.  Then it will be alright."

"You can fix death?  I don't think so," Carlos said, holding his hand out to one of his men.

"Time," Natalie said.  "I just need a little time."

"You've just run out of time," Carlos said.