Chapter 27 – Brothers and Cousins
"You okay?" His voice was little more than a whisper but it was raw with emotion, the torment in his eyes plain for her see.
She smiled at him reassuringly. In fact she was anything but. Her heart had ceased it's pounding but she felt drained. She could feel her stomach trembling and she wanted to curl up in a corner and hide. "I'm fine." Her lips twitched at the use of his favourite phrase but her eyes said 'thank you'. She knew he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms but this was neither the time nor the place.
They had just completed a sweep of the Village. Nothing. Harry came stomping back. "They're not here. There's no sign of the Gaunt cousins."
"What about the buyer?" asked Mac.
"Oh we've got him. He was in the helicopter you … er … disabled!" Harry waggled his eyebrows up and down. "Bullet in the leg. Take it that was you?"
Mac shrugged but looked pleased. "Lucky shot!"
Harry tipped his head towards Mason. Wright and Wong had made their appearance to take Cyrus Mason into custody. "Another lucky shot?"
Mac favoured him with a withering glare. "We wanted him alive. That took skill!"
Harry screwed up his face in disbelief. "Nah!" Then he burst out laughing at the disgruntled look on Mac's face. Suddenly the sound of distant gunfire echoed through the trees. "Now what?"
Wright stood up. "It's coming from the north-west. I sent the team over to secure the weapon's store."
Mac and Harry turned as more shots rang out. "GAUNT!" they spat in unison and without a word took off leaving the others standing open-mouthed. Don took a step as though to follow them but Jo put out a hand. She shook her head slightly. Not this time. Don could see the mingle of emotions on her face but he understood why. This was something he had to do.
"He's got a score to settle."
Don turned as it wasn't Jo that had spoken but Kate, Steve standing by her side, his face grim.
Jo sighed. "They both have."
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Ryan Gaunt turned to look at his cousin in disgust. The big man was red in the face and breathing heavily. At least he had kept himself trim. Victor may have put on more muscle but it was a lot of bulk to haul around when they had needed to move fast. He was furious. The whole situation was FUBAR. His legitimate business had not been as successful as he had hoped. It allowed him to live but only that and Ryan Gaunt had expensive tastes. When his cousin had come to him and asked him to to go into business with Mason it seemed like the answer to his prayers and for several years it had worked very nicely indeed. But as soon as the first shots had taken out the tires on the Jeep, he had quickly seen the way the wind was blowing and he had no sense of obligation to Mason. He wasn't about to go gunning for him. So he had run. His cousin had followed. They had watched the team, an odd mixture of civilian law enforcement and military personnel, take down Bryce, then one of the buyer's goons then capture Mason himself. Ryan hadn't wanted to wait around. He needed to get out and had set off immediately for the kill houses.
He had pulled at Victor and given him a one time offer. "Come with me or you face them alone." Victor had followed but the jog through the trees had been too slow and the FBI team had cut them off. Now they were sandwiched between the two. The two men sat against a trunk weighing their options. "We need transport."
"We can't go back to the centre. It's crawling with cops." Victor spluttered. "And the Fed's are all over the warehouses."
Ryan grimaced at the loss of his investments. "Then we're going to have to hijack one! There's more traffic on the east route. Come on." They turned around partially retracing their steps and heading east towards the road. "Keep your eyes peeled. I don't want to get shot in the back." Victor grunted and watched their backs but there were no sign of the FBI agents. Little did he know that they'd been told to stand down.
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Harry jogged along the small track and stopped at the point where it curved to the left. He dropped to one knee. Mac squatted down by his side and pulled out his scope. "They'll have worked out that they can't go back to the centre and the north west is covered. "
"They need transport."
Mac swept the scope in a wide arc. "They'll cut east to the main road. More chance of finding something."
"Any sign?"
"No." Mac stowed the scope. "Come on." They cut away from the track and headed east.
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Marlon Beidecker sat hunched over the wheel of his decaying Chevrolet Cheyenne. A hula hula girl air freshener swung from the rear-view mirror. A limp cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth and his long greasy blond curls jiggled as he bobbed his head in time to the radio. He was so lost in his fantasy about Chely Wright's single white female searching for him that he didn't notice the two guys in the road until it was almost too late. He stamped on the brakes and yanked the steering wheel to his right sending the truck slewing to a halt with a screech of tires. The cigarette dropped from his mouth as the door was pulled open and a gun was shoved into his face.
"Out!"
Marlon complied holding his hands high like a cartoon character, his face a mask of fear and incredulity. He backed away from the truck. Ryan jumped into the driver's seat and waited for Victor to circle the truck and lift his bulk into the other seat. He hadn't even closed the door before Ryan was hauling on the wheel to turn the truck around.
Victor looked at him. "What you doing?"
Ryan glared at him. "Mexico's that way!" He stamped on the accelerator and the truck fish-tailed as it gathered speed.
Marlon stood rooted to the spot as his truck pulled away wondering what the hell he was going to do when, much to his astonishment, another figure stepped out of the trees some thirty yards down the road. Marlon blinked as the man, dressed just like someone out of one of his favourite war movies strode into the road and positioned himself in front of the truck. He stood there immobile. Marlon felt his stomach flip. He was sure that the man was going to be crushed. But as the truck neared a loud crack split the air and the truck seemed to lurch swerving to one side. The man in the road didn't move an inch as the careering vehicle left the hard-top and crashed through the bushes on the hard shoulder before ending up smashing into a tree.
Marlon's jaw dropped as he watched his truck crumple. "Mabel!" he wailed.
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Harry Fisher lifted the barrel of his M16 off the branch he had been using for support and peeled himself away from the tree. He sauntered nonchalantly over to Mac with a cocky grin. "Bet that made you wet your pants," he cajoled. Mac shook his head in irritation pretending to be annoyed at how close Harry had cut it but Harry noticed a small twinkle in his eye. Harry stomped over to the truck as a figure tumbled out of the passenger door. He looked down at him disdainfully. "He's all yours." Harry continued around to the front and peered in through the shattered wind-shield. Ryan Gaunt lifted his head. The left side of his face was coated in blood and his eyes had an unfocussed look. Harry grinned at him and jabbed at the wind-shield with the tip of his rifle. "Hello there Ryan. Now be a good boy and keep your hands where I can see them." He touched the mic at his throat. "Wright, you there? This is Harry Fisher. Send us some transport. We're on the east road about two miles from the turning to the Centre. Over." He acknowledged the curt response and turned his attention back to Mac. This should be good.
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Victor Gaunt staggered from the wrecked truck and shook his head to clear his mind. He glanced back at his cousin who had taken the brunt of the crash. Then he spotted Harry who was smiling at him amiably. Harry nodded as though to indicate someone was standing behind him. Victor Gaunt turned and his world came crashing to a halt. He blinked. He couldn't believe his eyes. It just wasn't possible.
"YOU!"
Mac favoured him with his best smile. "Hello Victor. How's the finger?" Victor Gaunt let out a howl of anger. He tried to pull his gun but his finger wasn't fully healed and he fumbled. Mac swung at his hand with the butt of his rifle knocking the huge hand-gun from Gaunt's hand sending it skittering across the road. He tutted. "Really Victor? Now where's the fun in that?" Mac tossed the rifle to Harry who caught it deftly in one hand. At first Gaunt seemed surprised by the gesture but then a slow smile spread across his features. Gaunt lowered his head as though to charge and brought up his fists in front of his face in a classic peek-a-boo boxing pose. Mac arched an eyebrow but kept his hands low by his side.
The two men moved slowly away from the truck. Mac was faintly aware of a lanky young man with long hair walking towards them down the centre of the road and the distant sounds of sirens at his back but he kept his eyes on Gaunt anticipating his first move. Fortunately he had done a little background research on Victor Gaunt during his discrete nightly visits to the lab which, he thought wryly to himself, had turned out not to be too discrete as Adam had still managed to discover him. The kid was too smart for own his good. Mac made a mental note to try to get him out of the lab more. His research had shown that Victor Gaunt had been a good little grunt but with a propensity to bar-brawling that didn't go down well with the military and a half decent boxer albeit with a few disqualifications for dirty fighting. Mac was pretty sure that this fight wouldn't be any different. Gaunt's favourite opening was a double right jab and left hook usually followed by a straight right and another left hook. One thing for sure was he'd be favouring his left hand. Broken fingers took a long time to heal.
The two men circled one another and Gaunt went in for the opening move. Mac danced around him and struck out with a booted foot catching Gaunt in the back of the right knee forcing him to stumble.
"Really Mac! Queensbury rules dear boy!" A tiny smile played the edges of Mac's lips at Harry's efforts at an English accent.
Enraged, Gaunt forgot about any kind of finesse and went straight for a hay-maker, a wild swinging punch thrown with all of his weight behind it. If it had connected it would shattered Mac's jaw but Mac was one step ahead of his opponent, his earlier move intended only to set the ground-rules not to disable. He rolled neatly under it and threw an elbow into Gaunt's kidneys. Gaunt staggered and swung himself around, his face getting redder and the veins his his neck bulging. He threw a straight right at Mac who blocked it and retaliated with an uppercut to the solar plexus. Due to the layers of muscle and fat it did little other than to enrage Gaunt even more.
"You're a dead man Taylor!" he seethed as he threw another round-house punch but Mac deftly dodged out of the way and threw a short jab of his own catching Gaunt on the jaw. He chuckled to see his jowls wobble.
Harry gave a short bark. "Mac didn't your mother tell you it's not nice to play with your food before you eat?" he admonished. Mac gave a sharp laugh as he blocked another wild swing but he didn't let his focus wander. Gaunt's anger was making him unpredictable. Running on pure rage he threw a dozen punches at Mac who staggered a little under the onslaught managing to block most of them with the exception of one that caught him right on the spot where he had been shot. Harry grimaced at Mac's wince but didn't interfere. He kept one eye on the fight and one on Ryan Gaunt who still wasn't quite with them. He was still in the driver's seat clinging onto the steering wheel, his head half supported on on his arm. The sirens got louder and Harry was aware of four squad cars approaching. The cavalry was arriving which was a good thing as the fight appeared to be intensifying and for some reason Mac was choosing to end it.
Mac Taylor wasn't a vindictive man but Victor Gaunt was a murderer, a kidnapper and moreover, he had put the fear of God into Stacy. Alice had told him that she kept having nightmares that Gaunt and Mason were coming after her. Her tear-stained face flashed into his mind as did that of John Silverman, FBI agent, husband and father of two, and Justin Myers, security guard, a decent man who just wanted to help out a kid in trouble. He hadn't set out with the intention of a beat-down but something primeval had taken over, some deep-rooted need to mete out punishment. The world around him blurred as an almost animal instinct took over. Victor Gaunt was going to get what he deserved.
The men danced around one another. Fists flews. Punches landed. Breathing became more ragged. Pain made itself known but it was ignored. Mac's rage grew with each punch until he found himself of the edge of an abyss unable to stop. Suddenly a voice broke through the red mist that had blocked out the world around him.
"Mac! Enough! Mac! Please!"
The mist lifted. His heart hammered in his ears. The abyss yawned in front of him. It would be so easy to take that final step. But the voice was right. Enough. He dodged back and feinted forcing Gaunt to go for another hay-maker but instead of stepping under it, he stepped into it grasping his arm firmly. The move took Gaunt by surprise. Grasping Gaunt's wrist with all his strength he twisted and used his free hand to grab his collar. The big man's forward momentum did the rest. Mac slammed him into the side of the truck. The resulting bang reverberated through the bodywork making his cousin raise his head. Slowly Victor Gaunt crumpled into a heap beside the truck. There was a second's silence then Harry piped up.
"And one, and two, and three ..." He broke off. Mac looked up but Harry wasn't looking at him. Mac turned to look behind him. Harry was looking directly at Jo and she didn't look happy. "Think we're in trouble bro'" he finished off quietly.
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Jo and Don had overheard Harry's call to Wright and they had headed outside and begged a lift with a local deputy by the name of Quick. Don had been tempted to ask him if he had a partner named Slow but Jo was desperate to get off and had pushed him into the car. It had only taken a few minutes to drive from the front of the Centre and up the road that formed its eastern boundary. As they approached they were surprised to see a beat-up Chevrolet Cheyenne crumpled against a tree at the of the road, Harry Fisher perched nonchalantly on the hood. In the middle of the road stood a young man with greasy blond hair and and AC-DC tee-shirt. A little way behind him was an old fella with a gnarled face, half out of his truck and looking on with interest. A sweet looking grandma peered worriedly through the wind-shield at the two men who appeared to be engaged in a boxing fight in the centre of the road.
Jo's draw dropped as they neared and the deputy pulled to a stop. "Oh! Of all the stupid ... testosterone-filled ... macho … bullshit ..." she hissed as she threw the door open. Don shrank back against the leather at her outburst. The deputy turned around in open-mouthed astonishment. Don pulled a face and slunk out of the car after her. Jo stomped up the road unable to believe her eyes. She stopped and looked down. A Desert Eagle lay on the road at her feet. Harry Fisher sat perched on the hood of the Chevrolet intently watching Mac slug it out with Victor Gaunt. He had his own M16 pointed at Ryan Gaunt and a second M16, clearly Mac's across his knee. "Mac! Stop It!" The two men fought on each oblivious to anything around them but the need to hurt the other. Her stomach clenched as she could see the anger and the pain in his face.
"Mac! Enough! Mac! Please!"
She saw him falter as he raised his fist, bloodied and quivering. Then suddenly he changed tack as Gaunt, seeing the hesitation, went in for the attack. In one swift movement Victor Gaunt was thrown against the side of the door to end up in an undignified heap on the ground. Harry Fisher gave a whoop of glee and started a boxing-style count-down as the young man in the AC-DC tee-shirt started clapping. She silenced them both with a glare. Slowly Mac turned around. His chest was heaving and she could see the anger dissipating. As their eyes met she saw a flash of guilt and he seemed to sag as the realization of what he had done hit him.
Mac looked back at Gaunt and then down at his hands, the knuckles already bruised and swelling. His right hand was covered in blood from where he'd caught Jowls on the nose. As he stared at the blood he knew that he could have killed him, that he had been close to the edge. For a moment he wondered if he would have, wondered at what point he would have stopped. Then he looked back to where Jo was stood, fear and worry etched on her face and he realized in one epiphany-like moment how much he needed her. He held her eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Then he took one last look at the man on the ground and he turned his back on Victor Gaunt.
Don Flack sauntered up to the bulky man accompanied by the local deputy named Quick. "Don Flack, pleased to meet yah!" Victor Gaunt peered up at them bleary-eyed. "Victor Gaunt, you're under arrest for the murder of Justin Myers, the murder of a Federal agent, kidnapping of a crime scene investigator, abduction of a minor, assault, aggravated assault, assault with a deadly weapon ..." Victor's head dropped back to the ground as Don folded his arms with a self-satisfied air and continued with his list. "... the sale and shipment of illegal weapons, grand theft auto ..."
Mac paused on hearing the latter and looked at Jo who looked doubtful. He turned back to Don with a raised eyebrow. Don glanced down at Victor for a second and then grinned smugly at Mac. "He ain't denying it!"
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