Spencerville

He poked the fire and added another log, then stood watching the flames awhile. One of the dogs barked again, but he didn't seem to notice. Finally, he turned around and looked at her. He said, "I told you, when I'm through with you, you ain't gonna be you. When that happens, you won't want to go back to Spencerville. Get used to this, sweetheart. This is it, forever." He pointed to the gray timber wolf head, mounted above the mantel. "Just me, you, and these guys for company."

Annie turned away from him and looked into the fire. A tear ran down her cheek.

He turned on the small table lamp beside his chair, then shut off the floor lamp. He sat down and began reading a hunting magazine. After a few minutes, he looked up and spoke in a normal, almost conversational tone of voice. "Tell you what, though. There's a guy out there someplace who fucked you, and if my boys get him and bring him here, or if he somehow comes here and I get him, then after he's dead, I might reconsider things. But meantime, you're stayin' here with me. You can think about that cock all you want, but you're never gonna see it again unless I got it in my hand and I'm feedin' it to the dogs."

Annie wiped the tears from her face with the blanket.

"Don't cry, sweetheart. I know you're worried about me, darlin', but I can take care of myself. You found that out, didn't you?" He laughed and went back to his magazine. "Bitch."

Annie sat in the rocker, feeling cold, hungry, violated, in pain, and exhausted. It had been a bad day, and there would be more of them. She looked at him, then closed her eyes and thought of Keith. She felt his presence inside her and tried to imagine that he was close by. She remembered what he'd said... even if we're separated for a short time, remember that I love you, and know that we'll be together again ... "I promise."

"What?"

"Nothing."

He went back to his magazine. He said, "I bet I know what you're thinkin' about, and it might surprise you that I'm thinkin' the same thing. I hope he comes, too."

Chapter Thirty-nine

Keith found it difficult to sit and wait, but he knew that the later the hour, the more chance of catching Baxter with his guard down. The attacker, he reminded himself, always had the advantage of surprise and mobility, not to mention being psyched up for a fight. The defender had the advantage of having picked the place and prepared it to his liking, and, not inconsequentially, the advantage of creature comforts. But it was this last thing that sometimes lulled the defender into a fatal sense of security.

Billy took a cellophane bag out of his pocket and ripped it open. "You want some peanuts?"

"No."

Billy munched on the peanuts. He said, "Maybe we don't have to kill the dogs. Now that I seen his setup there, I think we can take him from a distance. We just set up firing positions at the edge of the clearing, make a noise, and the dogs bark and he comes out onto that nice high deck and we plug his ass. We got scopes, and we can get off two, three rounds each before he knows what the fuck hit him."

"He's wearing a bulletproof vest."

"Ah, fuck his vest. When those rounds start slapping him around, he's gonna be hurt, even through the vest. And maybe we'll hit an arm or leg. Maybe his fucking head. What do ya think?"

"I like the idea that you're thinking. Okay, he's down. Then what?"

"Okay, after he's down, you move fast — a hundred yards to the house and up to the deck — that's maybe twelve, thirteen seconds, and meantime I'm still layin' down coverin' fire for you, so if he picks his fat ass up from the deck, I nail him again. If there's anything left of him when you get there, you cut his fucking throat. Then I'll come up and gut him. No, shit, Keith, I'm gonna gut him. Hey, if you want, I'll rush him and you lay down the fire. Your call, Lieutenant."

Keith glanced at Billy Marlon. Clearly, the man was enjoying himself, and he had every right to. He said, "Standard fire and maneuver. Not bad. Safe for us."

"Yeah. Whoever's layin' down the covering fire is safe, and the guy who's rushin' the house has to trust the other guy to know how to shoot. You a good shot?"

"Pretty good. You?"

Marlon hesitated, then said, "Used to be the best. Depends now on how steady I can get."

"How steady can you get?"

"For this motherfucker, steady as a rock."

Keith nodded. He thought about Billy's idea. The infantry school would approve. But there were other things going on. A hostage for one, and Keith's image of himself and Baxter face-to-face, for another. They didn't cover any of that in tactics classes, or even in intelligence school. Revenge and payback was something you learned on your own. He said to Billy, "There's a chance that Baxter could take cover before he's badly hurt. He could get around to the blind side of the house, or worse, he could get back into the house."

"Yeah... but..."