Kill Me if You Can - James Patterson [69]
But he wasn’t smart. He was strong. Stronger than I was, and he knew it. And as he forced the barrel of the gun closer and closer to my face, he grabbed me by the jaw and twisted my head, trying to angle it for a better shot. I could see he was determined to win this one on brute strength alone.
Macho bullshit. Not my style. Certainly not my father’s style. Rule number one according to Dad was “There are no rules. Do whatever you have to do to win. Kick him, pull his hair, gouge his eyes out, fight like a girl, bite him.”
I bit him.
With his giant palm pressed under my jaw, his fingers digging into my face, I got my teeth around the first joint of his thumb and clamped down hard. Real hard. They passed through the skin, through the flesh, and right between the joint of his first knuckle. I spit the end of his thumb straight into his eye.
The Jamaican yanked his bloody hand to his chest, and as his body lurched backward, his knee lifted off my gun hand.
I shoved my gun under his nose and fired. At point-blank range, one bullet was more than enough. Covered with blood and bits of gray matter, I reeled out of the bathroom and toward the door in pursuit of Benzetti.
His leg was bleeding and he was limping toward the top of the steps.
Adam was standing directly below him on the fourth-floor landing, a 9-millimeter Glock in his hand. Benzetti fired his gun. Adam fired his. The only difference was that Adam took the time to aim. Benzetti toppled forward and bounced noisily down the stairs.
Rice yelled up from the first floor. “Nick. Nick. You okay?”
Then I heard him running toward us. I counted ten frantic steps before I heard the whispered pop of Zach’s gun.
It was over. And since everybody used suppressors, there was almost no noise. Just death.
The walkie-talkie sprang to life. “Bartender to DJ. Chukov knows there’s trouble. One of his guys must have entered the building with a wire or an open cell connection. He jumped in the Benz and drove up. He’s right in front of the building. I can drop him.”
“Stand down, Bartender,” Adam said. “Hold your fire.”
I expected Ty to say, “Roger that,” but instead he came back with “Oh, shit. Matt, it’s Katherine.”
I grabbed the walkie. “What do you mean, ‘it’s Katherine’?”
“Big as life,” Ty said. “She’s walking down Perry, headed straight for us.”
Zach’s voice came on. “Matt, I’m going out there to get her.”
“Stand down, stand down,” Ty yelled. “Chukov has a gun trained on the door. He’ll drop you before you get to the top step.”
“Where’s Katherine now?” I said.
“Thirty feet from the building,” he said. “Oh, shit—he sees her. No question—he recognizes her.”
So much for my good-neighbor policy. I keyed the walkie. “Take him down,” I said. “Now.”
“I don’t have a shot,” Ty yelled. “He grabbed her!”
Zach jumped in. “I’m going after him. Cover me. Oh, shit—he has her, Matthew. He took Katherine in his car. She’s gone.”
Chapter 81
“MATT, I’M REALLY SORRY,” Zach said, and my friend looked incredibly sad. “I should’ve—”
I held up my hand. “No apologies. You couldn’t have seen this coming. I should have, though. Oh, man. Katherine is Chukov’s negotiating tool. He’ll trade her for the diamonds.”
Almost on cue, my cell rang. It was Katherine.
“Where are you?” I said.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m in a car. A man grabbed me.”
“Bitch!” It was Chukov’s voice. “Give me the phone.”
I could hear Katherine crying as Chukov grabbed the phone and screamed at me. “Bannon, can you hear what’s happening to your girlfriend?”
“Let her go,” I said. “This is between you and me.”
“You and me?” he bellowed. “I don’t even know who the fuck you are. But I’ll bet you know who I am. I’m Chukov, the man whose diamonds you stole, and I want them back!”
“Okay, okay, just don’t hurt her.”
“I haven’t hurt her. Not yet. Right now she’s in the front seat of my car, stretched out nice and comfortable with her head in my lap.”
“You touch her, and I swear to God, I will hunt you down and there’ll be nothing left