Page 91 of My Crazy Killers
He glances down at the gun I’m holding by my side and grins, as if he sees no threat here. “What do you plan to do with that?” he asks mockingly. “Shoot me?”
“Yes,” I answer as I lift the gun and take the shot. I halfexpect to hit the driver, ten feet to his right, or maybe his leg, but as blood starts to trail down his chest, both our eyes widen. I shot him right in the heart.
I can vaguely hear women screaming and sirens blaring, but all I can do is watch as Ivan places a hand over the wound, then holds up his blood-covered fingers, as if not understanding what he’s seeing.
His wide eyes meet mine, and I smirk. “Gotcha,” I tell him, just before his eyes roll back and he collapses to the ground.
The driver stares down at Ivan in shock, looks at me, then jumps back into the vehicle and takes off. I slowly move forward, needing to make sure he’s finally dead. Dark red blood stains the sidewalk around him, a line of it pooling where a clump of snow sits by the edge of the road, making it stand out even more.
I kick his foot, and it flops to the side. His eyes are open, staring blankly up at the sky, and I finally let out a deep sigh. He’s finally dead. I did it.
All at once, the sounds around me flood in, as if I’d been blocking them out before now. First, I hear the screaming and glance around, seeing people huddled in doorways across the street, trembling as they stare at me with wide eyes.
Next, the sound of a siren grows closer, and I glance down the street, seeing the blue and red flashing lights moving toward me.Good, the cops are here.
I realize it’s actually four cop cars, as they skid to a stop as near as they can get, moving around the other few vehicles on the road.
Then I hearthem.
“Wren!” I turn my head and see Pete running full speeddown the sidewalk toward me with the others hot on his heels.
“Peter!” I yell, reaching out toward him even though he’s still over a hundred feet away.
“Drop the weapon!” someone yells in Russian to my left, and I turn, gasping when I see all the cops standing there with their guns pointed at me.
I look at my hand and realize what this must look like. I’m standing over a dead body, covered in blood and holding a gun. The part that worries me is that itisexactly what it looks like. I just killed two men in public. Hopefully, when they realize who I just killed, they’ll understand.
But not wanting to get shot, I slowly bend down and place the gun on the sidewalk.
“Hands up!” The officer yells in Russian as he steps toward me. I raise my arms and glance toward Pete, who’s covered half the distance between us now, his eyes wide in alarm as he takes in the situation.
The officer reaches me and roughly grabs my wrist and spins me around, cuffing my hands behind my back before telling me I’m under arrest.
“Let her go!” Pete yells, closing in. The other cops move between us, aiming their guns at Pete.
“Stop!” They yell in Russian.
“Stop, Pete!” I yell, translating for him. “They’ll shoot you!”
Elias catches up to him and holds him back, whispering to him quickly while his eyes bore into me. He takes in my appearance as anger fills his face.
“We’ll get you out,” Elias yells over the wall of cops.
“I know!” I yell back as I’m escorted to the police car.
“We’ll clear it all up and have you home in no time!”Elias yells as the door opens. I’m placed in the backseat, and the door is slammed shut.
The cops who are aiming their weapons at them slowly lower them when they realize they aren’t going to interject. Elias steps forward, speaking quickly as he gestures toward Ivan and me, speaking animatedly and angrily. I can’t hear what he says through the closed door, and suddenly I’m moving as the car starts down the road. I turn so I can watch them as long as possible.
Elias seems to be yelling louder as the other four watch me, looking as helpless as I feel. At least I’m safe, and Ivan is gone.
The mission might not have gone as planned, but at least we accomplished what we set out to do. Ivan is dead. As soon as the cops understand what happened, they’ll let me go, and all we’ll have left to do is find Ivan’s list of associates.
Easy peasy.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
WREN
