“He?s heading for the water,” Stick yelled, and went over the windowsill and into a garden behind the
place. “Stay with the girl. He?s mine.”
A shot whined between us and smacked the windowsill. Stick hunched down and took off in a crouch,
jumping this way and that, threading his way through the trees. He didn?t make a sound.
I went back into the other room. Doe was facing the wall with her hands over her face. lied her
outside, to the side of the house away from the shooting.
“Stay right here, don?t move,” I said. “You?ll be safer here. I?ve got to check the rest of the house.”
She nodded but her eyes didn?t like the idea.
I went back inside.
A quick check turned up ten bodies in the house. Nobody had survived. The bomb, or whatever it
was, and the burst from the M-l6 right after it, had killed five gunmen in the living room and three in
the kitchen.
There was a shot outside.
A muffled burst of M-16 fire.
I checked the .357 and half ran, half stumbled out the back door. Another burst, down near the water.
I started after them.
Nance was out on the dock. He started to get aboard the yacht. I heard the pumf of the grenade
launcher, and the back end of the yacht erupted. Nance was blown back onto the dock. He got to his
feet, kept running away from Stick. The big luxury boat started to burn. In the light of the flames, I
saw Nance scramble aboard a sailboat at the end of the dock, her sails furled loosely around the boom.
The Stick was hunched near the bowline. He moved away from me, toward the shadows on the Far
side of the sailboat. Then suddenly he leaped over its side.
His submachine gun was chattering.
Nance got off three shots before he started his dance. He went up on his toes, spun around, slapping
his body as if bugs were biting him. His hands flew over his head, and he fell backward onto the deck
like a side of beef. One foot kicked half-heartedly and he went limp.
I picked up the M-l6 and ran out onto the dock. The Stick was walking awkwardly toward the stern,
where Nance was lying.
“Stick!” I yelled.
He turned and crouched in a single move; then his shoulders drew up suddenly, his knees buckled,
and he fell over onto the deck.
I jumped aboard the sailboat and ran back toward the stern, where he was lying. I was ten feet from
him when he raised up and lifted the 180. For a second I thought he was going to shoot me. 1 just
