“I would guess, maybe more than anybody,” Hawk said.
“At the moment I think we shouldn’t unless we have to,” I said.
In the light that spilled into the woods from the floodlit clearing I could see Hawk shrug. “Delayed gratification, babe,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said.
Lights went on and off inside the lodge but there was nothing in the pattern that told us anything. We couldn’t see enough through the windows to help. The outdoor guard shifts changed. Hawk and I put our hands into our pockets and sat and watched. We ate some granola bars and some trail mix. We dozed a little, but not much. The night went on. The lights inside the lodge went off, except for one downstairs. The outside floods stayed on. The outdoor shifts changed again. Toward morning it rained. I stood slowly in the downpour and shrugged my back and neck. I felt like a junk car.
“Russell show up now,” Hawk said, “I think we overmatched.”
“Have some trail mix,” I said.
Hawk took a handful and chewed it without pleasure.
“I look like fucking trail mix to you?” he said. “I look like a fucking granola bar? I eggs Benedict, and mimosa, I room service, man.”
“The rain is nice,” I said.
“Refreshing,” Hawk said.
Along with the woodsmoke I could smell coffee, from the lodge.
“If they start to fry bacon in there,” I said, “I’m going to cry.” We were both on our feet, stretching quietly, talking softly, trying to get warm and loose without disturbing the lodge patrol. It was raining steadily and still dark.
“We plug that chimney,” I said, “and the smoke will back up into the house and drive people out.”
“What if Susan in there?”
“They would bring her out too,” I said. “They got no reason to want her dead. I assume Russell likes her.”
“Means one of us got to get up on the roof,” Hawk said.
“Yes.”
We stood in the rain watching the house. There were no birds today, no squirrels. I was looking at the power and phone cable where it ran to the house.
“We need to do some stuff,” I said. “We need to confuse and distract them. We need to cause a diversion.”
“We good at causing diversions,” Hawk said.
“Think we could shoot that power cable out?”
“From here?” Hawk said. “Not with a handgun.”
“We could get a rifle,” I said.
Hawk smiled. “Yes, we can. I know where there’s four.”
“Closest one is down there,” I said. “Maybe seventy-five yards.”
Hawk said, “I’ll get the rifle. You circle around behind the house on the hill back of it. When I shoot out the power cables they’ll all come charging over here. You get on the roof and stuff something in the chimney.”
“While they’re chasing you.”
“While I shooting their ass with my new rifle,” Hawk said.
“I like it,” I said. “Give me time to get around there. I’ll go for the roof when you start shooting.”
“No hurry,” Hawk said. “I be getting my new rifle while you circling.”
I moved off through the woods, staying crouched, moving slowly through the rain. Stepping carefully in the spongy wet leaf mold on the forest floor. The sound of the rain spattering down among the evergreens deadened the sound of my movement. I took a careful slow half hour to get around behind the house. From the slope behind it I could see that the lodge was built into the side of the hill and from a tree I could jump to the roof. Maybe.
I found the best tree and crouched beside it. The rain had soaked through my jacket and some of it trickled down my neck and along my spine. I stayed in the tree, crouched among the bottom branches, for maybe another fifteen minutes. Then I heard the first shot. It was a rifle, and there was a second and a third. The third shattered the porcelain mount on the lodge where the power cables went in. All the floodlights went out. The cable fell free and sparked as it hit the wet ground. There was movement in the woods below, and from the guesthouse some of the security people appeared. The rifle sounded again and one of the security people fell. Gunfire started back toward the woods. I went up the tree in the faint gray light, got high enough and launched out onto the roof of the lodge. The roof was covered with handsplit shakes and made a decent footing, even in the rain. I scrambled up to the roof ridge and along it to the chimney opening. There were two flues in the chimney. The woodsmoke was heavy and hot close up as it rose from the open flue. I shrugged out of my jacket, jammed the ammunition into my hip pocket, and shoved the wadded-up jacket into the flue. It made a sodden solid mass and no more smoke escaped. Below, the gunfire increased. Most of it aimed into the woods, and I was peripherally aware of movement in the open yard. I slid along the wet shakes down the front slope of the roof and landed on the cross balcony, and flattened out on the floor with the automatic in my hand. I could hear footsteps moving in the house and men’s voices. There was yelling. The outside security people were firing at random into the woods. Smoke began to seep out from the glass doors. I heard doors open below and more voices and the sounds of confusion. I edged along the floor of the balcony and peered down into the yard. Four men came out of the house with handguns. One carried a flashlight. Two more men came out behind them.
A voice came up out of the hubbub, “What the fuck happened?” Humanity’s cry.
