Judge & Jury - James Patterson [98]
Cavello’s only way out was into the canyon. He sent a spray of bullets my way. Then he took off up the road.
You’re mine.
Chapter 123
IT WAS A ROCKY, unpaved mountain road, barely wide enough for a single vehicle. If we didn’t have SUVs, neither of us would have been able to stay on it for a hundred yards.
And it was starting to climb higher.
I pursued Cavello, my head nearly bouncing against the roof. I didn’t know if he knew where he was heading. But I sure didn’t, and I didn’t like the idea of this ominous-sounding glacier ahead and the unknown terrain. The canyon walls rose above us, overhanging and steep. Cavello’s vehicle sped ahead. It was hard to make up distance. Every time I hit a bump or a dip, I clung to the steering wheel as if it were a life preserver.
The land had the look of a primordial world. Vegetation dwindled down to nothing. Ahead, gleaming, snow-capped peaks came into view. Frozen cataracts hugged icy cliffs overhead. It was surreal.
We were going fifty or sixty, careering over huge bumps and dips. Any second, either of us could blow a tire and be dead because of it. Cavello fishtailed perilously around turns, scraping boulders and branches.
I had to end this.
Cavello slid around another turn, and I floored the accelerator, ramming his back end. The Range Rover swerved, trying to hold the turn—then its wheels sputtered wildly into a gully.
The Range Rover rolled over, then landed upright in a cloud of dust. I slammed on my brakes and jumped out with my gun ready. I didn’t see any movement, and it looked bad.
Suddenly, the passenger door creaked open. I couldn’t believe it! Cavello, with a bullet in his shoulder, along with whatever other injuries he’d just sustained, crawled out of the vehicle. He was still holding the gun, and he sprayed a barrage of bullets my way. I moved behind the SUV as bullets pummeled the Land Cruiser, shooting out windows. He kept firing until the magazine was empty.
I called out to him. “End of the world, Dom—for you.”
Chapter 124
I STARTED TOWARD HIM, and Cavello began to hobble up the slope toward the ice field, limping horribly. What was with this guy?
“It’s pay-up time, Dom. You remember Manny Oliva? Ed Sinclair?” I yelled, and my voice echoed.
He continued to claw his way up the slope, falling back, righting himself, grabbing at rocks and loose gravel. I kept up, maybe thirty yards behind.
Over a ledge ahead of us was a massive block of ice. It was thirty feet tall—and vast—clinging to the valley walls between two mountains. It was breathtaking. Could’ve sunk a thousand Titanics, and Cavello was headed toward it.
He started to slide and fall. This time he cried out in pain.
“How about Ralphie’s sister, Dom? Remember her? How about that little girl, the one you burned? What was she, a year old?”
Cavello backed up against an ice-filled crevasse that was maybe twenty feet deep. There was nowhere else to go.
He turned and faced me. “So what do you want now? You want me to kneel and beg? You want me to say I’m sorry? I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” He mocked me and everything I stood for, believed in.
I was breathing heavily, and exhausted. I reached out the gun, pointed it in the direction of the mobster’s chest. He just stood there, at the edge, with nowhere to go. I’d waited for this for so long.
“Go on, Nicky Smiles. You won! It’s cold, and who knows what kind of animals are up here in the wild. You want some last words? I’m so sorry, Nick. I really am. I’m sorry I never got the chance to fuck her first before you came in. Quite a piece of ass. There you go, Nick. See how sorry I am! Go on. Shoot me!”
I did. I sent a bullet ripping into his leg. Cavello buckled and howled. He staggered backward. I shot again, the ankle this time, shattering it.
Cavello screeched then hobbled back; then his foot slipped over the edge. He began to tumble into the crevasse, scratching at the ice. He landed heavily on his back. Now he was completely trapped—no way for him to get out of there without