Cut and Run by Matt Hilton

sterner stuff, brought up his rifle.
    ‘Hold it right there, mister,’ he barked.
    ‘Shoot him,’ Imogen yelled. ‘He’s a murderer. Shoot him, for Christ’s sake!’
    The older man tensed his finger on the trigger, but he wasn’t ready to fire yet. His mind was in too much turmoil to shoot a man without all the facts at hand. To the teenager, he said, ‘Best you ring nine-one-one, boy.’
    The younger man back-pedalled, then raced up the trail towards a nearby house.
    Rickard stood stock-still. He still held the knife in his hand, but he was staring directly into the eyes of the older man.
    ‘This is no business of yours,’ he said.
    ‘It became my business when you moored in my boathouse,’ said the man. ‘I thought you were only trespassing, mister, and I’ve been waiting for you to come back to put you straight. Now I see that what you’re up to is much worse.’
    Rickard shook his head. ‘Get out of the way and you won’t get hurt.’
    ‘There’s only one man going to get hurt round here. Take another step and I’ll drop you.’
    Imogen crawled round behind the man, placing him between her and Rickard. She came to her knees. ‘Shoot him.’
    The old man ignored her, steadying his aim on Rickard’s chest.
    ‘I’m warning you, mister, I did two tours in ‘Nam. It was a long time ago, but I still remember how to fire a gun. Now drop the knife and step out here where I can see you.’
    Rickard only sneered at the man. Then his gaze shifted to Imogen.
    ‘We’re not finished, bitch. You think you’ve got a protector, but no one will stop me. Not him. Not Joe Hunter. I’ll see you again.’
    Then he turned quickly and disappeared back inside the boathouse.
    The old man grunted, started after him, but Imogen’s warning cry brought him to a halt. ‘He has a gun in there.’
    The man retreated, took hold of Imogen’s arm and heaved her up. Holding her, he moved backwards with his rifle braced against his shoulder, watching the doorway in case Rickard reappeared.
    They made it part-way up the trail when the roar of an engine sounded from within the boathouse.
    ‘Damn it, he’s going to get away,’ the man muttered. ‘Where’s that fool boy got to with the police?’
    Beside him Imogen didn’t seem to care. She was sobbing and trembling in relief. Or maybe it was fear, because Rickard’s warning had been served with a certainty that was chilling.

Chapter 16

    We heard the news about Imogen’s miraculous escape on the car radio and a tsunami of relief crashed through my senses and left me dizzy. I’m not a praying man, but I said my silent thanks to God.
    We’d bypassed Culver by then, but Rink immediately spun the car in the road and headed for the small town. It was taking a big risk because the area would be swarming with cops, but I needed to satisfy myself that Imogen wasn’t merely safe but unharmed. I also wanted to speak with her. It was possible that she could tell me who my enemy was.
    We were still a couple of miles from Culver when Rink’s phone chimed. He put it on speaker so we could all hear. Harvey Lucas was already doing his magic with his computer.
    ‘Law enforcement’s trying to track a plane that took off from Trenton without filing a flight plan. They think our boy’s on board ’cause the pilot’s doing his damndest to avoid radar.’
    ‘Direction?’ I asked.
    ‘South.’
    ‘Back towards Florida,’ Bryce Lang assumed. ‘We came here for nothing, just like I said.’
    ‘Not for nothing,’ I told him. ‘I came here for Imogen Ballard and I’m not leaving until I’m sure she’s out of harm’s way. I owe her that: she shouldn’t have to suffer for our crimes, Bryce.’
    ‘Everything we did was lawfully sanctioned, Hunter.’
    ‘Lawfully sanctioned, my arse! Even if it was an approved hit, does that make what happened to Jimena and the boy OK with you?’
    ‘That’s the way of war. Collateral damage is—’
    ‘The death of innocents,’ I finished