Taking Liberty (33 page)

___________________________

“Hello, Jefferson,” I said. “Looks like you’re all packed up and ready to take a long trip. I hope it’s someplace a little warmer than here.”

The unit officer from the Fed Med blinked and shook his head, as if by doing so he’d clear me from his vision. When I didn’t disappear, he said: “Get the hell off my property. You have no business being here.”

“Bridges is dead.” Sometimes being direct has more impact.

Jefferson’s mouth opened and closed in time with his blinking.

“Your co-conspirator was murdered, back in LA. That’s why I’m here. Someone gave him a lethal dose of potassium chloride and then set him on fire. That why you’re running?”

Jefferson slammed the trunk lid. “Bridges knew how to make enemies and keep them. Sooner or later some unhappy parolee was bound to seek him out and grind their ax in his face. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m just about to leave. Best if you get your girl here to back up that car of yours.” He went round to the driver’s door.

I blew sleet off the tip of my nose. “Don’t you want to stop a moment and catch up? We just came back from the motel room. The one at the Imperial Motor Lodge.”

Jefferson came to a sudden stop, like he’d walked into wet cement. He turned to face us and blinked against the Maglite. I could see something like volcanic fear pluming in his face. Steam about to issue from his ears.

“We saw what you did there: Doctor O’Dell’s faked suicide. Mind telling me what was with that?”

Jefferson didn’t hesitate. He launched himself at me like a surface-to-air missile. I should have expected him to make a move. I hadn’t – not against two armed federal agents. But cornered rats rarely lie down and die. They fight their corner, to the death.

Jefferson came at me too quick for someone his size. I had no time to react before his big hands had struck me in the chest and bowled me backward off my feet. I hit the wet pavement, shoulders-first, winced as pain slammed through my back. The Maglite went skittering across the lawn. Also taken by surprise, Woods was in the process of pulling out her sidearm. Jefferson had seen it and wasn’t for slowing. He knocked her hand away from the gun, grabbed her arm and twisted it up her back. I scrabbled to my feet and got out the Glock as Jefferson put Woods between us and clamped a big paw around her throat. He released her arm and grabbed her firearm, stuck the muzzle in the gap between her vest and her pelvis.

“Don’t!” I barked.

“I told you to keep your nose out, Quinn. See where it’s got you. Look where we are, dammit. This is all your fault.”

I leveled the Glock at his face. “You don’t want to do this, Jefferson. It’s only going to end one way and that’s badly.”

“I told you to keep your nose out,” he repeated. “You were supposed to believe O’Dell took his own life. Now you’ve gone and messed it all up.”

I could hear the desperation in his voice. See his hand tighten around Woods’ throat. Jefferson had the strength in that one hand to snap Woods’ neck, I knew. She was staring at me, eyes wide, every muscle tensed, probably thinking the same thing.

“Let her go and we’ll talk this through. I know you, Jefferson. You’re not a natural born killer. You wouldn’t kill unless you were absolutely pushed to it.” I took a gamble and raised my hands. “See. No one’s about to push you to kill again. You know me. We can talk. Work something out. Maybe strike a deal.”

Jefferson started backpedaling toward the driver’s door of the Sentra, taking Woods with him. He hadn’t moved either hand from their threatening positions.

“Her name’s Kelli Woods,” I said. “She’s an innocent party in all this. She didn’t even know your name before coming out here. Can you feel her pulse thudding away behind your hand? Kelli’s a good kid, Jefferson. Going places. She has a dog that depends on her coming home. She’s not the enemy. We’re here to help.”

Suddenly, he aimed the gun at me and fired. No warning. Totally unexpected. The street lit up momentarily. Automatically, I sucked myself into the thinnest profile possible. But the bullet had passed by wide before I’d moved and bounced off the road with a
crack
.

A dog started barking in a neighbor’s backyard.

“What the hell, Jefferson!”

“I was aiming for the damn tire,” he shouted.

Jefferson wanted to run. He didn’t want us following.

Contrary to popular belief, hostage negotiation isn’t about building relationships. It’s about surrender, on both sides. What are you willing to give up to make them give up?

I turned toward the Enclave and shot out the front tire. Air whooshed and the vehicle tilted into the curb.

I swiveled back. “Satisfied?”

Both Jefferson and Woods were staring at me like I’d bitch-slapped an old lady walking by with her lap dog.

“Throw your gun across the street,” Jefferson commanded.

“Only if you promise me you’re not going to harm Kelli. Otherwise I’m going to need it to do the same to your head as I did to that tire.”

Jefferson had backed up all the way to the open car door. “Best just to do as I say, Quinn. Longer you stand there with that gun in your hand, the more I’m inclined to make rash decisions.”

“What if your neighbors have kids? We wouldn’t want one of them coming across a loaded weapon. You wouldn’t want that on your conscience too, Jefferson.”

“Empty the damn clip.” The desperation was giving way to mild annoyance. Already, he wasn’t thinking straight. He could have settled with simply separating the clip from the gun, but he was going all the way.

Keeping my hands visible, I dropped the magazine and let Jefferson see me empty the remaining fourteen bullets into my cupped palm. I stuffed them in my jacket pocket and slid the magazine back into the Glock.

“Now toss it across the street.”

“Okay. But remember: we have a gentleman’s agreement, you and me. You’re not going to harm Kelli. You’re going to keep her safe. She’s relying on you to keep her safe, Jefferson.” I twisted and pitched the Glock onto a lawn directly across the street.

My heart was thudding, but I couldn’t feel it.

“Now do the same with your car keys.”

“Oh, come on, Jefferson. Give a little, will you? I’m doing all the bending backwards here.”

He jabbed Woods’ handgun into her pelvis. I saw her stiffen. The hand on her throat stifled a yelp.

I raised my hands and showed open palms. “Okay, okay. Only I don’t have them, see.”

“Get them,” Jefferson growled in Woods’ ear. “And no tricks.”

Woods slid a shaking hand into her jacket pocket. The movement was difficult; made awkward by her tension. The hand came out with the car keys dangling from her fingers.

“These the car keys, Quinn?”

I nodded. “Sure looks like it.”

He nudged Woods with the gun. “Throw them inside.”

She did. Again, awkwardly. I heard the keys hit the Nissan’s dashboard and land in the floor space.

“Now back the hell away, Quinn. Get in your car and lock the doors.”

“If I do, will you promise to release Kelli?”

“She’s coming with me.” He was thinking on his feet. Brains in his size twelves. “I’ll leave her down the road. That’s what I’ll do. You let me go. I let her go. We all come out of this happy.”

I wasn’t sure about Jefferson’s definition of happiness. There was no way he was getting away with his role in O’Dell’s death.

I started moving back down the driveway. “It’ll be all right, Kelli. Jefferson’s a man of his word. Aren’t you, Jefferson? He just made a mistake. He’s learned from that. He’s smarter than to make that same mistake again.”

Woods was staring through wide and fearful pupils. Wet blonde hair plastered to her head and neck. Didn’t look like she was believing a single word I was saying.

Probably the worst situation she’d been in, period.

I reached the Enclave, opened the driver’s door and climbed inside, locked it after me. Immediately, the windows started steaming up. I wiped away condensation and watched through the rain-pebbled glass as Jefferson forced Woods into the Nissan. She went in backwards, had to shimmy across the center console to get to the passenger seat. He went in after her and slammed the door. I saw the vehicle’s lights come on. Bright beams lighting up the twin garage doors and dimming as he turned the ignition. I toweled sleet off my face with the cuff of my jacket. The Nissan reversed off the driveway and out onto the street, so that it faced the Enclave: headlights blinding. I made an
okay
sign with my index finger and thumb, and the Nissan rolled by, taking Special Agent Kelli Woods with it.

___________________________

Did I trust Jefferson to do the honorable thing?

In not so many words he’d admitted to playing a part in O’Dell’s murder, maybe even pulling the whole thing off by himself.

Did I trust Jefferson to release Woods unharmed?

I wasn’t about to test it by giving him the chance. No way I was willing to risk Woods’ life, all to prove a point.

Jefferson had made his choice. Free will.

As soon as the Nissan passed by, I leapt out of the Enclave and retrieved the Maglite from the lawn. Then I rushed across the street and used it to recover the Glock from the neighbor’s yard.

I saw the Nissan make a left at the head of the lane. Jefferson was taking it easy. No breakneck getaway driving here. I clambered back inside the Enclave and dropped the passenger’s visor. Caught the spare keys and started the transmission. I put the blower on the windshield and the wipers on max.

By the time I’d performed a U-turn and reached the junction at the head of the lane, the Nissan was about a hundred yards away. I left the headlights off and gave chase.

The punctured tire slapped against the pavement.

___________________________

Not much traffic on these residential back roads.

A good thing.

One or two oncoming cars flashing their lights when they spotted the Enclave with a flat tire emerging toward them in the dark. Some crazy guy driving with his lights out in these inclement conditions. Damn asking for trouble.

I didn’t have a plan. I was improvising as I went. Wrestling with the steering wheel just to keep the SUV from ditching off-road. I knew if I ruffled Jefferson’s feathers too much he’d likely get twitchy and shoot Woods by accident. I couldn’t take that risk. No cops, then. No squad cars with their sirens screaming and their roof lights intimidating.

I rummaged out my phone. “Find a fed,” I said at it.

The screen lit up and a synthesized voice replied: “Thank you for using Find-A-Fed. Please speak the name of the agent you wish to contact.”

I glanced at the glowing screen. “Kelli Woods.” Technology is yet to flip my switches.

“Thank you,” the voice acknowledged. “Dialing Special Agent Kelli Woods.”

I heard her number ring.

I had the Nissan’s tail lights in my sights. Jefferson was still taking it easy on the sleet-slicked asphalt; doing twenty-five. I had no idea where he was headed, other than in the opposite direction to the airport. He’d planned a drive. Possibly a lengthy one judging by the travel rations stashed in the trunk. All I had to do was hang back and out of sight and wait for him to pull over, drop Woods on the roadside. Then I could call in the cavalry and take Jefferson into custody. Straight forward, right?

I saw brake lights brighten as the Nissan approached the junction at the end of the road.

The phone stopped ringing.

“Quinn?” It was Woods’ voice. She sounded deadpan.

“Hi, Kelli. Can you put me on speakerphone?”

“You are.”

I saw the Nissan make a left.

“Jefferson?”

“What do you want, Quinn?”

“Reminding you of our deal and that you’re a man of your word. You leave Kelli by the road, alive and unharmed, and you’re free to drive away. She’s an innocent party, remember?”

I reached the junction. Crisscrossing traffic, regularly spaced. Red-and-white lights cutting through the rain. I didn’t want to lose sight of the Sentra. I took a chance and turned left across the street, gunning the Buick and cutting it close to an oncoming vehicle. I accelerated into my lane as the vehicle behind me rushed up and honked its horn, long and hard. I was a nuisance with my lights out, endangering other road users. I flicked on the headlights and put my foot down. The popped tire sounded like a gofer wrapped round the wheel.

“What the fuck?” I heard Jefferson say from the speaker. “You’re behind us!”

He’d heard the sounded horn, then its time-lagged echo down the phone. I was busted.

I saw the Nissan lurch and begin to speed away. I stepped on the gas. No way I was going to lose them.

Then something unthinkable happened.

The Nissan zigzagged in the lane, abruptly, dangerously. Screeching tires slipping on the icy surface. Woods must have snatched at the wheel, trying to foil Jefferson’s escape plans. I saw the Nissan’s interior briefly light up as if lightning had struck. Heard the gunshot burst out of the phone’s speaker. Felt fear erupt in my gut. The Nissan’s rear end fishtailed. I braked, hard, as its front wheels left the blacktop and ploughed into the broad run of city grass separating a wooded area from the roadway. The Nissan bounced across the uneven ground, tore through a single-strand barbwire fence and went nose first into a dip.

I reacted automatically. I yanked the wheel and held on as the Enclave went off-road, after the Nissan. The car behind me sounded its horn again as it zipped by. The Enclave bounced, tearing the wheel from my grasp. The flat tire flapped off and banged on the underside of the fender. The exposed wheel hub went to earth, buried itself in the softer surface and dug deep. Momentum dragged the back end of the Enclave around in a half-circle and the SUV came to a shuddering standstill, facing the road.

Headlights rushing past through the downpour.

I leapt out.

The Nissan was butted up against a tree, half its right fender concertinaed. Hood steaming in the cold damp air. Lights still on and engine still running. Twin gouges in the lawn behind it. Snapped barbwire and an uprooted fencepost lying on the trunk. I slithered down the grassy slope. The driver’s door was open. The light was on inside. I slid to a stop and pulled out the Glock. Remembered stupidly that I hadn’t reloaded it.

But Jefferson didn’t know that.

I crouched and looked inside, down the barrel of my gun.

Woods was still seated in the passenger side. She looked shaken, pale, but she was alive.

“That was one helluva ride,” she gasped. She saw the concern mangling up my face and added: “I’m okay. My vest absorbed the impact. Knocked the wind out of me. I don’t think he meant it to go off.” She winced. “Oh, mama. I think I’ve broken a rib.”

“Stay here,” I said. I saw her phone still in her hand. “Call for backup.”

She nodded. “He went into the woods. Be careful. He has my gun.”