End Game (Will Robie #5)

He had snagged an undamaged pair of optics off one of the dead men and took a long look around.

There was a door up ahead, at the top of the stairs. They reasoned that just beyond it was the level on which they had entered the silo. They needed to get help. They were well aware that Blue Man could not survive much longer in his condition.

They were also under no delusions that there would be no one on the other side of that door waiting to kill them.

“If Randall is still here, leave him to me,” Reel said.

“You really hate the guy.”

“Hate doesn’t really cut it.”

They reached the door and Robie put his ear against it, listening intently.

He nodded and Reel cautiously opened the door as they each peeled off to either side of the portal.

They both recognized the staccato burst of an MP5 emptying dual mags.

“Me high, you low,” said Robie.

Sixty rounds later Reel and Robie pointed their rifles through the doorway and sprayed their rounds in a one-eighty arc, top to bottom.

They caught the man reloading the MP5. One of Reel’s rounds tore into his thigh while two of Robie’s bullets hit the man in the head and chest, respectively.

They burst into the room and Reel grabbed the MP5 from the dying man’s grip, while Robie pulled free two full mags from holders on the man’s pants.

“Good lesson in keeping some of your powder dry, moron,” said Reel to the dying man.

“This is the JV team,” said Robie. “We left the varsity down below.”

Reel slammed the mags in and gripped the weapon as she looked ahead. “I recognize this hall.”

“I do too. The manufacturing area Fitzsimmons showed us is that way,” said Robie, pointing to his left. “So that means the long passage where we took the golf cart ride to see Bender’s body dumped is beyond that.”

“And the exit door out of this hellhole.”

He stooped over the dead man, searched his pockets, and pulled out a phone. “It’s passcode-protected,” he said, tossing it down as the phone’s owner breathed one last time before expiring.

“How many you think are left?”

“Considering they only had one guy waiting to greet us here, I think their numbers are limited.”

“Or maybe some of the guards up here have jumped ship.”

Robie nodded. “I don’t know what they’re getting paid, but it’s probably not enough to die for.”

“Fitzsimmons’s Nazi guys?”

“I can’t believe they recruited any of them for this. He’d want to keep his identity separate. But Patti probably has stuff in reserve. And then there’s Randall.”

They passed through another doorway and moved down the well-lighted hall.

“I don’t like this,” said Robie.

“Too easy,” added Reel.

“In here,” said Robie.

They slowly opened the door and found themselves in the drug-manufacturing area they had seen previously.

But unlike before, it was totally empty. The work areas looked like they had been deserted recently. Chemicals were still bubbling, computers were still working, and they could see half-finished projects all around. But the motorized assembly line had been shut down.

“You think they cleared out?” asked Robie.

“Well, Fitzsimmons said they were moving their operations beginning tonight. Maybe they started with getting the workers out of here.”

Reel nodded, her gaze reaching out to all corners of the room. “So let’s go find them before they find us.”

Robie peeled off his comm pack. “How about a little misdirection first?”

He turned the frequency back to the original one. He adjusted his headset, then held it away from himself and started speaking. “You’re wounded and you’ve got no way to get out of here. Just contact Patti and the others and tell them it’s over. Do it now. It’s your only chance to survive this.”

Silence of course followed, and Reel said in a loud voice, “Just kill him, Robie.”

“We kill him, we’re not going to be able to find our way out.”

Reel waited a moment and said, “I know where we are. We’re ten minutes from the manufacturing area we were in. I can get us out of here once we reach it.”

Robie said, “Then we don’t need this guy after all.” He deliberately pulled back the hammer on his weapon.

Reel said, “Don’t use the gun. Too much noise. Slit his throat.”

Robie pushed some stuff off a workbench and then made other scuffling noises followed by a scream and a gurgling sound. Then he pushed a box off a shelf to create a thudding noise, as though a body had just hit the floor.

Robie turned off the comm pack.

“You think they bought it?” she asked.

“I think we’re going to find out.”





CHAPTER





76


They didn’t have to wait long.

The door to the area they were in burst open two minutes later and four men hurtled through the opening.

Scott Randall was one of them.

Three trigger pulls by Robie and Reel later, and Randall was the only one left alive.

Randall threw himself behind a cabinet and shouted, “I’m going to kill you fuckers dead!”

Reel cast an amused glance at Robie. “And how are you going to manage that, Scotty?” she said.

She followed this up by placing a round right through the cabinet. Randall screamed and sprawled on the floor in plain sight.

Reel pointed her rifle at his head.

He had a pistol in his hand.

“Go ahead, Scotty. Kill me dead.”

“You’ll shoot me before I can.”

“Boy, aren’t you the smart one.”

He let go of the pistol, pushed it away with his elbow, slowly stood, and raised his hands. In a sneering voice he said, “You think you’ve got me? You’ve got shit.”

“A little remorse goes a long way,” said Reel.

“Remorse for what? I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You call drug trafficking and murder right?” said Robie.

“I’ve got nothing to do with the drugs.”

“So you’re just doing this out of the goodness of your heart?”

“I get paid a fee for professional services.”

“And the killing of innocent people?”

“They’re nobodies. Who cares? It’s not like I’m killing people who matter.”

Reel glanced at Robie. “You know, just when you think someone couldn’t go any lower.”

Robie said to Randall, “You’re going down for all of this. I don’t care how much you have in your bank account.”

The man shook his head. “None of this is my fault. I’ve done nothing wrong. It’s everybody else’s problem. Go after them.” He pointed a finger at them. “Listen up, I’m somebody. I have incredible value to the world.”

“What you have is a classic narcissistic personality,” said Reel. “On top of being an asshole.”

Randall’s sneer deepened. “You know what else I’ve got? The best lawyers money can buy. They’ll make mincemeat out of you. He said, she said. I won’t spend one day in jail, guaranteed.”

“You think so?” said Reel.

“I know so, bitch.”

“You know what, I think you may be right. I mean whoever heard of a millionaire on death row, right? It’s all about the high-priced lawyers. You buy justice in this country. Right?”

“Got that right, sweet cheeks. Maybe you got a brain after all.”

“But that only happens if there’s a trial.”

“Everybody’s entitled to a trial.”

“Not everybody.”

Randall looked incredulous. “It’s in the Constitution, you dumb-ass. And you call yourself a Fed. Jesus.”

“Yeah, but you have to be alive, right? No dead guys go on trial. I mean, what would be the point?”

Randall looked puzzled. “What the hell are you . . . ” Then realization spread over him.

“Exactly,” said Reel, right before she pulled the trigger.

As he fell dead to the floor with a hole in his face, Reel looked over at Robie. “You have a problem with that?”

“Problem with what?” replied Robie evenly.

“Some ways it’s good not to be a cop. All that ‘you have the right to remain silent’ bullshit.”

Robie looked down at Randall. “Well, he’s definitely silent now.”

She lowered the rifle. “Just saving the public the expense of a trial. The government doesn’t have a lot of spare cash.”