Lifeguard

the room. They wrestled for a second, Geoff rolling him onto his back.

“Hate to do this to you, mate, but you owe me a chrome side grille for my Ducati.” Champ head-butted Ponytail in the forehead. With a loud crack, the thug’s head went back.

That was when his gun went off.

At ?rst there were screams, people pushing frantically toward the entrance. “Someone’s shooting!”

I looked at Stratton, Lawson, Sollie…As a last resort, my eyes drifted to Champ. He hung there, straddled over Ponytail. A disbelieving smile slowly crept onto his lips. At ?rst I thought he was saying, See, I told you I had your back, mate. But then I could see it was more like shock. Blood began to seep through his white shirt.

“Geoff!” I yelled. He had started to reel. I lunged and caught him, bringing him gently down to the ?oor.

“Shit, Neddie,” he said, looking at me, “bastard owes me a whole new bike for this one.”

Another crack rang out, and then mayhem. Stratton’s other bodyguard was shooting. I saw Lawson go down. Everyone else hit the ?oor.

A slug ripped into the bodyguard’s chest and he fell back through a window, dragging embroidered curtains off giant rods and onto the ?oor. Then I caught sight of Stratton, free of Lawson’s grasp. He was backing away, slinking toward the kitchen door.

I was shouting into the mike for Ellie. “Champ’s down. He’s hit!” But she wasn’t answering. I had changed the plan on everyone. Now what?

“Jesus, mate, go,” Champ said. He wet his lips. “For God’s sake, I’ve got everything under control down here.”

“You hold on.” I squeezed his hand. “Cops’ll be here soon. Pretend you’re waiting for a goddamn beer.”

“Yeah, I could use one of those about now.”

I reached for Ponytail’s gun. Then I headed after the man who had ordered my brother killed.

Chapter 106

THE SHOOTING WAS OVER when Ellie and the two other FBI agents got down to the ballroom. Shell-shocked people in tuxes and gowns were milling about outside. Seeing the FBI jackets, everyone pointed inside. “There’s been a shooting. Someone’s been hit.”

Ellie ran into the ballroom, gun drawn. Hotel security personnel were already on the scene. The room was mostly cleared of people. Chairs and tables were overturned, ?owers on the ?oor.

This was bad.

She saw Lawson propped against a wall, a red stain on his shoulder. Carl Breen was kneeling next to him, shouting into a radio. Three other bodies were down. Two looked like Stratton’s men. One was wrapped in a curtain, and looked dead. The other was Ponytail, the pig who had chased Ned. He was out cold and wasn’t going anywhere.

The third Ellie recognized by his orange hair.

Champ!

“My God,” Ellie said, and rushed over. Geoff was lying on his back, with a knee raised. His left side was matted with blood; his face was white, his eyes a little glassy.

“Oh, Jesus, Champ…” Ellie knelt down.

A security man was barking into a radio, calling for EMS. Ellie leaned over and looked Geoff in the eye. “Hang on. You’re gonna be all right.” She put her hand on the side of his face. It was sweaty and cold. She felt her eyes glisten with tears.

“I know, there’s gonna be hell to pay,” Geoff said, managing a smile, “me impersonating a waiter and all.”

Ellie smiled back. She gently squeezed his hand. Then she looked around the ballroom.

“He went after him, Ellie,” Geoff whispered. He shifted his eyes in the direction of the kitchen. “Ned took Ponytail’s gun.”

“Oh, shit,” Ellie said.

“He had to, Ellie.” The Kiwi wet his lips.

“That’s not what I meant,” Ellie said. She checked her weapon, then squeezed Champ’s hand one more time. “I’ve seen Ned with a gun.”

Chapter 107

I BOLTED THROUGH the ballroom’s kitchen doors. The frightened kitchen staff, hearing gunshots outside, were just about hugging the walls, staring at me, unsure who was chasing whom.

I looked at a black guy in a chef’s hat. “A man went through here in a tuxedo. Which way did he go?”

“There’s a door in back,” the chef ?nally said, pointing. “It leads into the lobby. And upstairs. The main hotel.”

Room 601, I remembered.

I found the stairs and started up. It was worth a chance. Two teenagers appeared, coming down.

“You see a man in a tuxedo, running?” I asked.

They both pointed up the stairs. “Guy has a fricking gun!”

Six ?ights up, I pushed open a heavy door and came out in a red plush-carpeted hallway. I listened for Stratton’s footsteps. Nothing. Room 601 was to the left, toward the elevators. I headed in that direction.

I turned the corner and saw Stratton myself. He was down at the end of the hall, struggling to jam a plastic key into a door. I didn’t know what was inside. Maybe more help.

“Stratton!” I yelled, pointing the gun at him. He turned and faced me.

One thing almost made me smile, his cool, always-incontrol demeanor twisted into a frantic glare. Stratton’s arm jerked upward and he ?red his gun. Flashes careened off the wall near my head. I pointed my gun but didn’t ?re. As much as I hated him, I didn’t want to kill him.

But Stratton saw my gun – and he ran down another corridor.

I went after him.

Like a cornered prey, Stratton started trying doors around the elevator landing. They were locked. There was a balcony there, but it led nowhere but outside.

Then a door ?nally opened – and he disappeared.

Chapter 108

THE STRANGEST THOUGHT ?ashed through my mind as, gun in hand, I made my way up a darkened concrete staircase, following Dennis Stratton.

Years ago. Back in Brockton. I was wrestling with Dave.

I think I was ?fteen; he must’ve been ten. He and one of his goofy buddies had been making idiotic chimp noises while I was trying to make out with this girl, Roxanne Petrocelli, in Buckley Park, just down from our house. I chased him down by the jungle gyms, and had him pretty good, maybe the last time I could ever take Dave. I had his arms and neck pinned back in a kind of full nelson. I kept saying, “Uncle? Uncle?” hoping he’d give up. But the tough guy wouldn’t budge. I kept pushing harder, watching him grow redder in the face. I thought if I pushed any more, I would kill him. Finally Dave cried out, “Okay, Uncle,” and I let him go.

For a second he just sat there, breathing heavily, the color coming back to his cheeks; then he charged at me