Part Five
Disclaimers in Prologue.
Stagle was sitting in one of the booths of the bar, a plate of buffalo wings in front of him. He looked up as Yves slipped in beside him and placed a small silver pistol against his arm.
His backbone stiffened and he said, "Haven't changed your weapon of choice I see. Come to seek revenge?"
"I've come to seek justice, Stagle, nothing more."
"This is your brand of justice, killing me right here?"
"I've killed before, Stagle, I can do it again."
"And be no better than your father."
"Or you. But it's because of my father that we're here right now, isn't it? Why did you do it?"
"He asked. It was the least I could do. He always realized that eventually it would come to that. I was just following his orders."
She said, her voice tight and on the edge of tears, "I never wanted that for him."
"So the heartless child has a heart after all."
She leaned in close and hissed in his ear, "Not that you ever cared." She sat back. "I'm not my father. You don't deserve his fate."
"You think you can intimidate me?"
"Take a look around. There's no need. My father may have intended for you to escape, but he didn't take me into account."
He gave her a questioning look. When her meaning sank in, he cast a glance around, noticing for the first time the watching faces of several men.
"What is this?" he demanded.
"Justice, Stagle."
He stood up violently, knocking over a glass of water. At the same time, Agent Perkins and the other agents also jumped to their feet.
Stagle stared at them, made a choice and ran for the door. In his haste he slammed the door outward, encountering a brief resistance. Stagle tore past the man, who stumbled back and shouted after him, "Hey, watch where you're going!"
He turned his attention back to the inside of the bar, only to find himself face to face with Yves.
She said, "Jimmy?"
He had no time to respond before she said, "We need him."
That was all it took for him to crash back outside into the street. The sidewalk outside, at midday, was full of enough people to make finding Stagle difficult.
Yves, who had followed closely after Jimmy, was the first to point Stagle out.
"There!"
Stagle was barreling through the people on the sidewalk, leaving a trail of cursing men and women.
Jimmy took after him, followed by Yves and the F.B.I. agents. Stagle glanced behind him, saw them, and stumbled on a slick patch of ice. Swiftly catching his balance again, he hurtled forward, heading toward a pay-for-parking lot.
Stagle didn't look back again, concentrating on escaping. His focus was on reaching his car, but the moment he skidded to a halt in front of it, he was jerked around, coming face to face with Jimmy.
Stagle said, "Who are you?"
From behind Jimmy came a shout from Yves.
"Don't let him go!"
Jimmy turned Stagle so that he faced the car and pinned him there, holding Stagle's arms tightly together. Jimmy heard the clack of Yves' steps on the concrete, closing the few feet remaining between them. Agent Perkins was just a few steps behind, his pistol drawn.
They stopped beside Jimmy. Jimmy ignored Stagle's attempts to struggle loose, keeping him against the car. He asked, "What's going on, Yves?"
She didn't get a chance to answer before Stagle twisted around, jammed an elbow in Jimmy's side, drew a gun from his jacket and pointed it at Yves.
Perkins leveled his own gun at Stagle, shouting, "Drop it!"
Yves said, "You don't want to add another count of murder to your charge, do you?"
Stagle said, "What do I have to lose?" He tightened his finger on the trigger.
Yves heard Jimmy shout, "No!" She saw a blur out of the corner of her eye and then nothing, as an explosion of stars bloomed brightly at the edges of her eyes.
The first thing she heard after the ringing in her ears and the black fog at the corners of her vision faded away was Perkins calling for an ambulance. There was an agent standing over her, asking if she was all right. She stood up and when he offered her a hand she latched onto it, feeling another black wave of dizziness threaten to sweep her under. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying not to succumb to it. When she opened them, everything seemed brighter than before. She saw Perkins standing over a prone Stagle.
She said, "Jimmy?" and then saw him. He was lying on the pavement, an agent kneeling beside him, a hand pressed against Jimmy's chest, red seeping out from between his fingers.
She didn't feel the agent catch her as she passed out.
