Page 28 of Fire
A vision of Luca enters my head. I would have wanted it to be him.
Chapter 10
Luca
Why in the fuck hasn’t Cyrus texted me yet?
He and another guard are supposed to escort a heavily disguised Evan to cover the Freedom Festival.
I’d pretty much been in hourly contact with Evan’s new bodyguard to make sure everything was going smoothly. He texted me this morning from their hotel room and said he’d notify me when Evan was securely in the media area of the VIP section, where he’d be able to observe and give in-person accounts of the day’s events in his next articles.
I’d check on them myself, but I’d been called to the back section of the festival to deal with some young Reiver prospects who Digger had obviously planted to start shit in the crowd. I cleared them out by posing as DEA, but now that Digger has stormed the stage, I posted up back here to ensure they don’t come back.
It's all going more calmly than expected, but I’d be a lot less on edge if Cyrus would let me know Evan is safe.
I wonder if I’m so impatient about Cyrus’s call because I’m jonesing to see Evan again. I’m like a fucking lovesick puppy staring off into space, thinking about Evan. Grave even took pityon me and offered to let me be Evan’s backup guard in the VIP section, but I’d refused.
I insisted that I was planning to avoid Evan and make sure we didn’t see each other when he was in Lexington, but the minute I knew he was in town last night, I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep away. It's been the equivalent of emotional edging waiting to see him.
But I need to control my thoughts and focus on the job I have to do here today.
I watch Digger strut around the stage and spew his shit-talking, and I can’t believe I followed that man’s orders for so many years. Checking my watch, I see that the stage light explosion, which is meant to simulate the sound of a bullet, is scheduled to go off in forty-two seconds, but as I wait to go into action, I hear commotion over my com. Eli’s clipped voice is calling my name.
“Luca, how far are you from the press box?”
I gauge the distance between me and the empty sixties-style building that, back in the day, housed journalists when they were covering sporting events. “About four hundred feet,” I say, gauging the distance.
“I need you to get over there now. There is an active shooter set up to fire at the stage, and Evan Kelly is being held by three Patriots Now members on the west side of the building.”
I’m running before Eli finishes the sentence. Shots begin firing at the stage, and I don’t stop to turn around to see the damage they do. There’s no time. I have to get to that press box and disarm the shooter.
I have to get to Evan.
Chapter 11
Luca
I circle to the outer stairs that lead to the second landing. A half wall provides cover, and I’m able to get eyes on Evan and assess the situation.
Cold fury rushes through me as I see a beaten and bruised Evan with three Patriots Now motherfuckers surrounding him. One of them has a gun pointed at him, while another man has a long-range rifle pointed at the stage. The third man unlocks Evan from the handcuffs that chain him to the observatory rail, puts a gun in his hand, and pushes him to his knees. “Here’s the deal, Evan, you either cooperate and shoot yourself for the cause, or Liam, over here,” he nods toward the sniper, “is going to shoot someone in the crowd for every second you hesitate.”
Evan looks out at the crowd, and even this far away, I see his decision.
I don’t make a tactical plan. I see Evan in danger, and pure, primal instinct takes over. Pulling out my Baretta, I shoot at the fluorescent light panels just above the sniper. Lights flicker on and off like a strobe light, and sparks of embers fall like fiery rain.
Evan drops the gun as his captors duck for cover, assuming the shot was fired from above them. I make a run at the sniperfirst, who sees me and raises his rifle at me.Fucking rookie.Long-range weapons aren’t meant for close combat. I yank the barrel of the rifle from his grip and swing it around to use it to coldcock the man coming up behind me. Once he’s on the ground, I drop the rifle and turn my attention back to the sniper.
Hefting him up by his t-shirt, I half-push, half-throw him off the railing. He screams like a baby all the way down until I hear a loud thump as his body hits the ground. It's probably only a forty feet drop. He might live if he fell just right, but I don’t care. As long as he’s unable to hurt Evan, I don’t give a fuck either way. One man is left, and I saved him for last. He was the one I witnessed tormenting Evan.
He’s going to pay for that.
He sees the look I give him and runs for the stairs. I shoot him in his left Achilles tendon because it will stop him in his tracks, and it's painful as hell. He goes sprawling to the cement. I’m on him in seconds, taking him by the hair and dragging him back to where he’d imprisoned Evan. I use the handcuffs and secure him to the rail.
I think about shooting a few more painful body parts when I hear Evan trying to catch his breath behind me. I aim a kick at the bastard’s head designed to knock his lights out and turn toward Evan.
Evan is still kneeling, almost hyperventilating as he tries to breathe. Skidding to my knees in front of him, I cradle his head in my hands. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” I croon as he trembles against me. “I won’t ever let them touch you again.”
I pull back to get a good look at him. His face is bruised all over.I should have fucking killed them all.
