Hank fought to catch his breath. “Foreplay… be damned, then.”
“Please don't kill me,” Winter pleaded. The young guards laughed at him.
“Jesus Christ,” Hank said. “This muscle woman isn't smart enough to work that cage. You're more likely to die of old age while we're waiting for this idiot to figure out the controls. Duh, boss, it'll take a really long time to carry them back to their car,” Hank mocked.
Spiro grabbed the collar of Hank's coat, dragged him over the floor to the cage, and lifted him. Hank kicked him in the shin, but Spiro didn't seem to feel it. He shoved Hank into the space, then latched the door while Hank kicked against it. Spiro grabbed the winch's control wand, flipped the toggle to raise the cage up, and let it swing over the water.
“The crabs got your blow job, old man.”
Hank started yelling in Spanish. “Oh no, no aspira mi pene!” Oh, no, Kill me, kill me! I'd rather be dead! The guards may not have understood Hank's Spanish or the English exactly, but they were laughing. “Sta dicendo che e gonna fuck lui!” Hank howled.
Yul stood facing the cage with his left shoulder to Winter. He was aiming his shotgun in Winter's general direction, but his attention was focused on Hank and Spiro. Valentino was between Yul and the cage, with his back to Winter. His shotgun rested in the crook of his arm, barrel pointing at the floor.
As Winter had hoped, the guards didn't perceive him as a threat-Hank was doing a perfect job holding their attention. Spiro, too consumed with anger to think of anything but making Hank suffer the only way he could, started to lower the cage slowly into the water, stopping the winch and then starting it again.
Winter slipped his cuffed hands under his buttocks and feet and sprang behind Yul. Before the bald young man could react, Winter looped his handcuffed arms over the young man's head and shoulders and gripped the shotgun. Covering Yul's trigger finger with his own, Winter had his left hand flat against the receiver for leverage.
Powered with a burst of adrenaline born of fear and anger, Winter overcame Yul's resistance and swung the gun's barrel to bear on Valentino.
As Winter sprang, Valentino turned, reflexively raising his own gun. Without any choice, he fired at his partner just as Winter pressed Yul's finger against the trigger.
Ba-boom! The shotguns' reports overlapped.
The blast from Valentino's Wingmaster punched a fist-size hole through Yul's chest, and the buckshot hit Winter's vest with the force of a mule's kick. He landed on his back with Yul's dead weight on top of him.
Winter's blast hit Valentino wide of his chest. He pivoted hard and fell backward, landing against the wall, six feet from the opening in the floor. The blast had blown the guard's right arm clean off below his shoulder. The naked arm lay on the floor, its hand still gripping the gun's stock.
Spiro released the control wand and turned to the carnage like a bear in the ring. The cage continued to descend and Hank, who was fast disappearing into the murky water, hollered, “Go, boy!” before the cage vanished in a stew of bubbles.
Winter found himself beneath Yul with no chance of pumping the shotgun to rearm the chamber. He released the weapon and pulled his cuffed hands back over the dead guard's head.
Valentino seemed to be staring at his appendage lying just beyond his boots. Blood sprayed out through the open sleeve to the rhythm of his beating heart.
Spiro jerked Yul's shotgun away by the barrel and slung it across the room. He grabbed the corpse by a foot and pulled Yul off Winter. Winter drew his feet back and, when Spiro lunged at him, he kicked out hard, splitting open the big man's chin like he'd used a knife.
Winter rolled away, made it to his feet, and went for his SIG on the table. Spiro caught him from behind before he got there. The enraged giant locked his massive arms around Winter's chest and, when Spiro squeezed him, Winter thought his ribs would cave in.
“You like that, you fuck?” Spiro raged.
Winter drove the back of his skull against Spiro's nose crushing the cartilage and simultaneously stomped his heels down on Spiro's toes.
Most men would have let go. Spiro merely loosened his grip for a fraction of a second, but just long enough so Winter-his arms pinned and useless-could twist around to face his captor. Spiro's nose and chin were bleeding. Face-to-face, Spiro met Winter's eyes, smiled, and squeezed harder.
Winter sank his teeth into Spiro's narrow nose and shook his head violently. He felt the tip of Spiro's nose separate, then spit the grape-size nugget out and bit down on Spiro's chin. Spiro released Winter and grabbed his damaged nose, howling.
You… like that… you fuck? With his hands outstretched, Winter stumbled toward the table again after his gun. He had seconds to get Hank up, and he'd have to put Spiro to sleep to accomplish that. He made it to the table and grabbed his SIG by the barrel.
Spiro caught him by the neck of his coat and slung him away from the table.
The handgun flew away toward the workbench.
Winter landed beside Yul's body and managed to reach inside the dead man's coat to grab the gun from his belt.
Spiro went for his high-powered rifle still leaning against the wall next to Valentino. He jerked the weapon up to his shoulder and whirled to aim down at Winter.
“Now, you fuck!” he howled, tears streaming down his cheeks. “You fucking, fucking… fuck… FUUUCK!”
“Wait!” Winter yelled. “Russo said to drown me!”
Spiro hesitated.
Bringing the Browning Hi-Power up from behind Yul's prone body, Winter gave the giant a triple tap. Spiro fell sideways into the water, leaving most of his brains behind.
Winter set aside the Hi-Power, scurried over, grabbed the control wand, and flipped the toggle from down to up. The wheel pulled the cage up out of the water, pushing Spiro's floating corpse aside.
“What took you so long?” Hank sputtered. “My damn boots are ruined.”
Winter reversed the winch and guided the descending cage to the floor. He helped Hank out. The older marshal looked around the room, surveying the carnage. “Son… you have made… one hell of a mess.”
Winter reached into his pocket to get his handcuff key to unlock his cuffs.
“You tired?” Hank said, after Winter had unlocked his cuffs.
“I'm getting my second wind.”
“What happened to your mouth?” he asked Winter after seeing Spiro's blood on him.
“Nosebleed.” Using his coat sleeve, Winter wiped the blood off.
Winter lifted his SIG from the floor and pushed it into his holster, snapping the thumb break closed. Water dripping from his clothes, Hank took up his Colt from the table and holstered it.
“My boots are so full of water they're gonna hear us coming a mile off. Best I-”
Boom! A sharp report filled the room and Hank collapsed.
Winter turned and saw the barrel of the Ruger KP-90 drop to Valentino's leg, and Valentino's head fall forward-his chin against his chest.
At some point, while Winter was busy, the guard had freed his semiautomatic and, using the last of his energy, managed to squeeze the trigger.
“I'm okay. I'm fine,” Hank said, sitting up.
Winter kept the Walther pointed at Valentino's head as he crossed to him, put his thumb between the hammer and firing pin, and twisted the gun away. He cursed himself for not checking on the man as soon as he had gotten Hank safely up. In the excitement he had lost a vital thread that could have cost both their lives.
Winter removed Hank's wet coat and, using the bullet hole in the shirt's sleeve for a starting place, he pushed his finger through and ripped the material wide open. The bullet had hit Hank's left arm above his elbow. Winter saw shattered bone inside the exit wound, and the blood flow was steady, so the artery wasn't cut. The bullet was lodged in the side of Hank's vest. Using his belt, Winter made a tourniquet just below Hank's shoulder.
“Scratch,” he told Hank. “You can hardly even see it.”
“Ruined my best shirt.”
“Maybe Millie can turn it into a short sleeve.”
“Based on our movie stars here”-Hank winced-“I'd say I got off pretty light. I still got my gun hand and I can
