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And he saw that he'd pushed it too far. He'd pushed her over the edge. And he was going to get what he had wanted all along. He was going to get the bullet. He was going to look down the bore of her weapon, maybe for just a millisecond, but he knew that in that wisp of time he would see down into it, and he would see snow and blood. He would see the dark path from which he'd emerged.
"You win," Rose said, and in one fluid movement, she s.h.i.+fted and brought the gun forward.
Jake got what he wanted.
He heard the sharp crack, the controlled explosion. h.e.l.l unleashed.
Jake's world went dark for a moment. He was in the middleground. Perfect peace. Jill's cry brought him back to the light. He could see again. And what he saw was that the top right quadrant of Rose's head was gone. And as her body pitched forward, Jacob saw what was left of her brain, glistening wetly in her cranial cavity.
There was the soft sound of her body thudding against the concrete, then absolute quiet. No sound. Like a Montana field covered in snow. Just waiting to be broken.
Then there was a warm crackle of radio static as Kathryn keyed her mic from the rooftop above. Her voice, professional and a.s.sured, transmitted across the tuned-in radios of media observers, scanner junkies, and law enforcement personnel. It echoed through the streets.
"Target down."
The eerie quiet remained. It was shock. Jacob had seen it before. When the lightning came down from the sky like retribution from a vengeful G.o.d, it cowed the people into silence.
Then, clear as day, he heard Cowell speak. A tone of resigned awe in his voice, the lieutenant said, "f.u.c.kin'Sesak."
Jacob's legs went weak on him. He thought he heard the crowd cheer. It was loud. The spell had been broken. The G.o.d had been named. They were happy. Relieved. Safe. The G.o.d was a just G.o.d.
Jacob and Jill crawled to each other. It was just a few feet, but it felt like miles. But they made it. And they held each other.
The only thing Jill could manage to say through her swollen face was, "Are we clear?"
Jake nodded and held her tight.
"Crystal."
CHAPTER 28.
Tombstones stretched as far as the horizon, with a ribbon of pavement threading its way throughout. Amongst the granite markers, a long shadow touched and pa.s.sed over the buried dead.
Jacob thought of what had gotten him here today. His life choices. The path that he had forged. The path that wound like the pavement through the graveyard. Here amongst the dead, he was thankful that the one closest to him was still alive. Jill's injuries were healing. The bruising around her eyes from the broken nose had been spectacular. Like a sunset after an atomic bomb. But now it was little more than orange-brown smudges.
She'd been hospitalized for a few days. To set her cracked ribs, observe her after the blows to the head, tape up her nose. Mainly for observation after the shock. The posttraumatic stress. For the pregnancy.
Jake had sat with Jill in the hospital each day. Kathryn came by a couple of times. She brought flowers. After some awkward small talk, the three of them just sat in an easy silence.
Once he was back out on patrol, and there was time to talk, Kathryn wanted to know why Jacob hadn't taken the shot himself. He was clearly a better shot. He had more experience. A dope book as thick as a Sunday newspaper. He knew the variables in play. Knew them cold. Was it because he couldn't completely block his emotions?
And he looked at her for a long time, as though mulling over just how much of the truth he should share with her, and he'd said, "Well, Sesak, it's like this. I had them both in my sights plain as day. And you're right, I had those variables down cold, and the environmental conditions were ideal. But I couldn't find the perfect peace of the reticle. I couldn't let myself disappear into the scope. And do you know why?"
She shook her head.
"Because it occurred to me, I hadn't paid the last installment on Jill's life insurance."
She smiled. f.u.c.kin'Denton.
"Did you want to die? Was that your plan? Because, you know, you should be dead. The idea that Rose Kaufman missed the killshot while that close is preposterous."
"She didn't miss. She never got the chance. Thanks to you."
Kathryn nodded.
"And it's not preposterous. She'd been holding the gun against Jill's head for a good while. Pus.h.i.+ng it hard, holding it tight. White knuckled. I saw that through the scope. It's hard for anybody to hold their hand in one position for too long, and when you add in the extreme tension and force she was exerting, I knew muscle fatigue had set in. As snipers, we train for it. We have exercises to relieve and prevent it. I knew the muscle fatigue would cause her round to go low. That's if she got off a shot at all. And I didn't figure you'd let her get one off. And I positioned myself so that there were no bystanders around me."
"In case she did get off a shot."
"Yeah. So I knew what was in play. I took a chance. I just had to get the bore of that gun off Jill's head. I knew you could make the shot."
"But how?"
"I trained you. You pa.s.sed."
Kathryn nodded, thinking about Phase One, Phase Two, the alcohol test. All of it.
"And now I'll have a true partner. I can be with my family more. Just like I said to you. It's time."
Jacob's shadow continued on through the cemetery. There was a second shadow as well. Jill. The cracked ribs and deep tissue bruising still pained her if she moved too fast. But she was okay. She was alive. Her husband was alive. And a new life continued to grow inside her.
The two shadows stopped and fell over a tombstone. Newly engraved. Jacob squeezed Jill's hand. In her other hand she held several roses. Jill walked to the stone and placed half of the roses on top. She saved the rest of them, then stepped back to Jacob.
"I'm going to put these on Captain Bryant's grave."
Jill moved away, leaving Jacob alone with his old partner, with Oz.
Jacob approached the cold stone. He read the inscription.
LEE STALEY.
19592015 THERE ARE MEN TOO GENTLE.
TO LIVE AMONG WOLVES.
Jacob reached into his pocket and retrieved the small cloth bag. He opened it and looked at the spent cartridge sh.e.l.ls inside. Still just seventeen. He pulled the drawstring closed and kneaded the bag in his hand. And he thought of the last words he'd spoken to his friend.
It's time to put the past away.
It's time.
Jacob kneeled and placed the bag on Oz's grave.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.
We would like to thank our extended families for their support, as well as Robert Guinsler, Stephen Torres, Ellen Schlossberg, Peter Farris, Becky Hann Kraegel, Robert Leland Taylor, Rita Kempley, and Charlie Bennett. We are indebted to our editor, Peter Joseph, for his inspired guidance. And a special thanks to Linda Andrews and the staff of the Hoover Public Library.
ALSO BY GRANT JERKINS.
The Ninth Step.
At the End of the Road.
A Very Simple Crime.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS.
GRANT JERKINS is the prize-winning author of A Very Simple Crime, At the End of the Road, and The Ninth Step. He lives in the Atlanta area with his wife and son.
JAN THOMAS has worked as a firefighter/medic, a role-player at a police academy, a weekly humor columnist, and a screenwriter. She lives in Northern California with her husband, a retired law-enforcement sniper, and their two St. Bernards. Done in One is her first novel.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fict.i.tiously.
end.