“I’ve got children too, LuAnn.”
While Masters gave instructions to the pilot, LuAnn gave Lisa one more hug and kiss and then turned and raced for the woods, a swarm of FBI agents and police officers right behind her. As fleet of foot as she was, and knowing the terrain as well as she did, she soon left them far behind.
Riggs could hear the feet flying in front of him. Charlie had dropped back a bit, but Riggs could hear his heavy breathing not far behind. The woods were wreathed in almost complete darkness and the rain continued to pour down. Riggs blinked his eyes rapidly to gain some degree of night vision. He pulled his gun, slipped the safety off with a quick punch of his finger. Then he halted abruptly as the sounds ahead of him stopped. He crouched and swept the area with his eyes, his gun making wide arcs. He heard the sound behind him an instant too late as the foot slammed into his back, sending him lunging forward and then down. He hit the wet ground hard, his face sliding painfully across the grass and dirt, and he ended up slamming against a tree, his gun smacking hard against the trunk. The impact caused his wounded arm to start bleeding again. When he flipped over on his back, he saw the man flying at him, the foot poised to deliver another crunching blow. Then Charlie blindsided Jackson and the two men went sprawling.
An incensed Charlie pounded Jackson with his fists and then cocked his arm back to deliver a knock-out punch. Quick as an eel, Jackson made a direct hit on Charlie’s wound, a blow that made him scream and double over. Then, with the same motion employed in striking a cymbal, Jackson smashed both palms against Charlie’s ears, forcing a sudden, painful rush of air into his ear canals and rupturing an eardrum. Nauseated and dizzy from the combined blows, Charlie fell off Jackson and lay on the ground groaning.
“I should’ve slit your throat at the motel,” Jackson spat down at him. Jackson was about to deliver a crushing kick to Charlie’s head when he heard Riggs scream at him.
“Get the hell away from him before I blow your damn head off.”
When Jackson looked over, Riggs’s gun was pointed directly at him. Jackson stepped away from Charlie.
“Finally, we meet. Riggs the criminal. How about discussing a financial arrangement that will make you very rich?” Jackson said. His voice was hoarse and weak from his near strangling by LuAnn. He clutched at his torn hand; his face was bleeding from Charlie’s blows.
“I’m not a criminal, asshole. I was an FBI agent who testified against a cartel. That’s why I was in Witness Protection.”
Jackson circled closer to Riggs. “Ex-FBI? Well, then at least I’m certain you won’t shoot me down in cold blood.” He pointed a warning finger at Riggs. “Understand though, if I go down, so does LuAnn. I’ll tell your former employers that she was in on everything, even helped me plan it. I’ll paint a picture so dark that she’ll be grateful for a life sentence. My attorneys will see to that. But don’t worry, I understand you can have yearly conjugal visits in some prisons now.”
“You’re going to rot in jail.”
“I hardly think that. I can only imagine what sort of deal I can cut with the Feds. I would think they’d do anything to avoid public disclosure of all this. When this is all over, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again. In fact, I look forward to it.”
Jackson’s mocking tones burned through every fiber of Riggs’s body. What was even more maddening was the fact that everything Jackson had predicted could very well happen. But it wouldn’t, Riggs swore to himself. “That’s where you’re wrong,” Riggs said.
“About what?”
“About killing you in cold blood.” Riggs pulled the trigger. The sound that didn’t occur seemed to drive all the blood from Riggs’s body. The gun didn’t fire; the impact with the tree had jammed it. He pulled the trigger again with the same sickening result.
Jackson instantly drew his own gun and pointed it at Riggs.