The Edge

As soon as the other Middle Easterner poked his head up the staircase, Devine put two bullets in it. The dead man slumped to the floor, the wall behind him painted with his blood.

There was a scream — a woman’s, Devine thought — and then he jumped to the side as the muzzle of an MP5 entered the stairwell and on full auto sprayed the area with a wall of bullets.

Next, Devine heard people running away, and he got to his feet.

He made his way cautiously down the stairs and then poked his head around the corner. He ducked down as more gunfire erupted. When he then heard a vehicle start he ran to the front door and jumped out onto the porch in time to see the taillights of the SUV fleeing down the road as the storm continued to roar overhead.

He ran back to the dead man at the bottom of the stairs, because he had been the one driving before. He snagged the vehicle keys from his pocket and ran back outside. He got into the SUV, fired it up, and started to back out. However, the truck wobbled badly and he slammed it in park and hopped out.

He went around the vehicle, his fury accelerating as he did so.

They had shot out all four tires on their way to escaping. That was the gunfire he had heard.

He slumped against the SUV’s fender and let the rain wash over him.

Despite their escape Devine had one thing to be happy about.

I’m alive.

Chapter 29

Devine sat on the front steps of a place where three men lay dead inside.

He was listening to the sounds of someone vomiting into the scraggly bushes on the right side of the old shack.

Sergeant Wendy Fuss came into view, wiping at her mouth and looking wretched.

“Jesus, Devine,” she said, spitting onto the ground and looking at his clothes that were soaked with the blood of other men.

Harper came out of the front door, snapped off his nitrile gloves, and glowered down at Devine.

“How in the hell did you get outta that?”

“You can thank the United States Army.”

Harper glanced at the house. “I think I need to call in the county and state police on this. It’s out of my jurisdiction.”

“Feel free.”

“And you gonna contact your folks?” he added. “I mean, those bodies, they sort of look... well, federal.”

“Already done and they’re on their way.”

“So we should just seal this thing off then and wait for folks to show up?”

“That’s what I would do,” said Devine. “And I need a ride back to town.”

“We’ll need your statement,” said Fuss, wrinkling her nose as she rubbed her belly.

“I can do it back in town.”

Harper said quickly, “I’ll run you back. Wendy, you stay here on guard till the people show up.”

Fuss looked like that was the last thing on earth she wanted to do, but the woman gamely nodded and said, “Sure, okay, Chief.”

“I’ll radio the county and state folks right now and let them know what’s what,” said Harper as he hurried over to his cruiser.

Fuss moved closer to Devine and looked up at him. “Did you really kill all those men?”

“If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be standing here talking to you.”

“It was a damn miracle.”

“No, it wasn’t. It was slow training, deep practice, and fast execution.”

“Well, you sure as hell executed them.”

Devine really wasn’t listening now. He was thinking ahead, leaping from one possibility to the next: Is this related to my investigation of Jenny Silkwell? Is whoever fired at me through the window also involved in this?

Or does it have nothing to do with Silkwell? And everything to do with me?

Back in Putnam he gave his statement to Harper. Afterward, he went to his cottage and showered, scrubbing extra hard, then changed into clean clothes and phoned Campbell to give him a fuller report. It was late but he could always leave a message. However, the man picked up on the second ring.

“Okay, this is getting weirder every minute,” noted the retired general after Devine had made his report.

“The question is, is it connected to the Silkwell case, or something else, meaning me?”

“The group in Geneva, you mean?”

“They were speaking Farsi and I heard a woman’s voice.”

“You thinking the woman on the train?”

“It’s possible.”

“How would they have tracked you down so fast?”

“There’s only one way, sir.”

Campbell said, “Wait, you think we have a mole in our organization?”

“We wouldn’t be the first.”

“I can’t believe—”

Devine cut him off, because, one, he was tired, and two, he was pissed. “What I know to be true is that two Middle Easterners and one Asian guy knew exactly where I was and almost punched my ticket for good. I want to know why. So should you.”

Campbell was a fine leader, which is why he simply said, “You’re right. On it. Stay tuned and watch yourself.”

Devine put his phone away and looked around his room. Right. Watch myself. But who’s watching me?