I crouched, muting the ‘schlick-schick’ of the pistol with my palm as I slowly slid back the slide and cocked it, and waited for instructions, and then I heard the soft, sneezing ‘Pop! Pop! Pop!’ of a suppressed firearm somewhere off in the distance and a scream of pain.
“Bonzo took out one shotgun, they’re huddled down, trying to fix the shooter. Move in, stay low, and don’t kill anyone unless you have to, I want these fuckers on a rack. Go!”
I moved in the direction indicated by the groans and whispered curses, letting Andy guide me in until I heard breathing. Jeez, I was right on top of them!
They must have heard me just as I heard them, and a dark, vague figure loomed up in front of me. I fired on instinct alone, the way I’d been trained, two shots, ‘double-tap’ right in the centre of the vague form even as I dropped and rolled. I’d shut my eyes as I fired, trying not to dazzle myself with the muzzle flash and lose whatever minimal night-vision I had, but I knew I’d hit home, the wet, meaty thud of the two rounds hitting his body had done their job. I heard a clatter as he dropped whatever he’d been carrying, and stretching out my hand I discovered what indeed felt like an old SLR; was this the shooter who’d shot my house up and nearly killed Georgy and Jamie, and how had he got hold of such a lethal relic?
For a split second rage washed over me and I was tempted to shove my pistol in his mouth and let him have two more rounds but from the sounds of it, he was already past any vengeance I could take. So much for me flapping my lips about being civilised and getting the police involved; when it came to it I’d killed a man without hesitation, and yes, he’d come to kill me, and yes, he’d attacked my home, but that still didn’t make it any less wrong, or me any better than him.
Now there was only one left of the four now that three of them were hors de combat, (plus the idiot trapped in the overturned Nissan, but he wasn’t going anywhere) and I had to hope Jarhead and Bonzo had him fully zeroed in, because I still couldn’t see fuck-all. He, on the other hand couldn’t fail to know exactly where I was. Basic training took over; if my position was known then change it, stay down, stay silent, and wait for my opportunity. Crouching low, one hand brushing the ground to feel for any large stones or trip hazards, I scrambled as silently as I could to move away from where the last remaining killer would have seen my muzzle flashes.
“I know you’re here, Wilmot, I can hear you moving around…” came his voice, shockingly loud in the pitch darkness, apparently just a few yards from me. “I’m going to kill you for what you did, and then I’m going to fuck that pretty wife of yours and kill her too, what do you think of that, rich-boy?”
If he thought threatening Georgy was going to make me give away my position he was sadly mistaken. By now Jarhead and Bonzo had him dead to rights, they were probably moving in closer as he spoke.
“What’s the matter, Wilmot, too scared to face a real man?” he taunted me, but my mother didn’t raise any fools and I knew what he was trying to do, so I stayed mum; every time he spoke I zeroed into him even more accurately.
“Going to kill you, rich-boy, kill everyone you know, those three rugrats of yours, fuck your wife like a whore, and burn your fucking house to the ground, you hear me, you fucker? I’m going to make you pay for what you did to my family, can you hear me?”
Okay, that made no sense; who the fuck was he, and what had I ever done to his family? Nothing came to mind, not that I cared; this psycho was after my family, time to shut this down. From my prone position I raised the pistol, aiming for where I guessed he was, and squeezed off a single round, rolling away even as I fired. He cursed and the boom of his shotgun nearly deafened me as he fired at my muzzle flash. At that close range the shot was still a dense cloud, it hadn’t spread out yet and it passed harmlessly over and to one side of me. At the same time I heard two pops, one after the other, the sound of more suppressed rounds and he screamed, falling heavily. I heard the shotgun clatter as he dropped it, and another ‘Pop’, and he screamed again.
It was my chance, and I dived onto him, sweeping the shotgun away as I punched where I guessed his face was. I heard and felt the crunching sound as my armoured glove broke his nose, before I jammed the barrel of the Glock in his mouth as hard as I could, probably breaking some of his teeth with the force I rammed it in.
“Lie still you shit-head or I’ll blow your fucking head apart!” I gritted, but it was just bravado; he was down and the boys were right behind me, judging by the red dot in the middle of his forehead.
“Good one, LT,” laughed Andy, flicking on his helmet-mounted LED torch so I could get a good look at whoever this psycho was. And I knew him! The first time I’d seen that ugly mug I’d been slamming a van door on it; this was one of the three men who’d invaded my home, tied up Georgy and Aunt Kay, and planned to murder them when they found the money that monkey’s cock Max Preece had told them was hidden in the house. He hadn’t looked so tough standing in the dock the last time I’d seen him when the judge sent him and his two confederates to jail.
“Get off him, LT, I want to talk to this piece of crap, take the gun out of his mouth, we’re going to have a little chat!”
With my pistol jammed in his eye I slid off him and stepped back even as Andy pressed his boot against his neck.
“Now listen here, dumbo, you’re going to stand up nice and slow, like; any sudden moves and my friend out there is going to blow your balls off, understand? Upsy-daisy, there’s a good boy!”
“I can’t, you shot me in the legs!” he whined.
“Oh fuck off,” grinned Andy, “just a couple of flesh wounds, don’t be such a fucking cry-baby, on your feet, now!”
“I’m hurt…” he whined, “I need a doctor…”
“You can get up, or I can put a bullet through your fucking mouth, you and your mate. Now get up and walk or I’ll shoot you now and tomorrow you’ll be somewhere in the North Sea feeding the crabs, take your pick, you worthless cunt, because we’re done here, and I’m not telling you again.”
He lay still, staring up at Andy and me, and I grinned and nodded at his groin. He shrieked when he saw the red dot centred on his crotch. Andy keyed his mike and spoke to Bonzo.
“Count of three, Bonzo then take your shot, I’m done with this prick, the other one’s still alive, we don’t need this joker.”
My home-invader/wannabe assassin struggled to his feet and glared at us; I guess he wasn’t that badly hurt after all, except for the oozing hole in his upper right arm, and I’m sure he didn’t need that arm to stand up anyway. Andy grinned encouragingly at him.
“See, I knew you could do it, now get weaving, and remember; I see anything I don’t like and you’re a dead man.” He clicked his PTT mike.
“Bonzo? Let’s make our guest comfortable. Move it, you; fucking walk or die right here, right now, it’s up to you and I don’t really care which; we’ve still got your other mates to talk to and we’re not going to carry you…”
As we approached the house I saw a torch flicker from the barn area, so we angled that way, our prisoner gasping and stumbling, making such a big deal over a couple of teeny little bullet nicks. Bonzo hit the lights in the barn and I manhandled our captive to the sturdy wooden chair in the middle of the floor, pressing my cocked pistol against his left eyeball while Bonzo bound him securely to the chair with heavy-duty zip-ties.
“Right, start talking, tough guy, who the fuck are you and why are you pulling this shit? And just so you know, any answers I don’t like and I’ll cut you somewhere painful, starting with your dick, so talk; what the fuck is your problem, and why this family?”
“Andy,” I broke in, “I know this bastard; he and two other men invaded our home, tied up and threatened Georgy and Aunt Kay, looking for some money that loser Max Preece told them was in the house. I took them out and they were arrested.”
I nudged the bound man with my foot.
“I was there in court when they sentenced you three dickheads; I know you got fourteen years, just like the other two. That was only eight years ago, how the fuck are you here now?”
“Good behaviour!” he snarled, “They released us after serving half our sentences, and we came to pay you back! I don’t care if you call the police, if I go back to jail I’m still coming back for you and your fucking family; you killed my brother!”
I shook my head.
“Nope, wasn’t me; you came uninvited into my home, your threatened my family, I beat the shit out of all three of you, you got what you deserved, but I didn’t kill anyone; mashed their balls and broke their faces, maybe; I’ll hold my hands up to that, but all three of you fuckwits were alive and breathing when the judge sentenced you, I was there. So no, I didn’t kill anyone… at least, not then; tonight, your two mates out there, maybe, like I care. You come to my house and threatened my family, you shouldn’t expect a warm welcome. Bonzo?”
“His friend with the shotgun is alive, just really unhappy; a bullet through each knee and his right arm will do that to you. He’s strapped to a boulder out there, I suppose he might get away if he can manage to run with a three-hundred pound rock strapped to his back and no knees, but don’t hold your breath. The other two are deader than dogshit, well done Will; maybe you should come and work with us part time, we could use you…”