Jillian and Junie, and believed that as long as he did what Koller asked of him, that would happen soon enough. There was nothing he could do to help the old man now, except to add that guilt to the guilt he was already dealing with. He felt terrible about indirectly being the cause of his death, but he forced himself to remember that it was Koller who killed him-Koller and fate.
Cold, hurting, and tired, Nick struggled to lift the body, relying essentially on his one good arm. Then he laid the old man down gently on the truck’s muddy bed and covered him. One more score to settle with Koller when the time came.
“What will you do with the body?” Nick asked, as soon as they were traveling again.
“My clients have the means to dispose of bodies. I just provide them.”
“You don’t feel a thing for that man’s life, do you, Koller?”
The killer smiled. “Think of me like an animal put on earth to hunt for food,” he replied. “I’ve been put on this earth to use my considerable skills to kill people. That’s just what I do.”
“Somebody might report the truck stolen. Aren’t you afraid of getting stopped by the police?”
“Do I strike you as a man who’s afraid of anything?”
Nick did not answer.
“We have plenty of time to get where we’re going without speeding,” Koller added.
“You really think of everything, don’t you.”
“You think of a lot yourself, Doc. I’m curious. Why didn’t you bring the DVD with you up to Siliski’s office?”
“Saul tipped me off,” Nick said, gritting his teeth against another wave of pain, this one centered in his belly. “He used his dead brother’s name instead of Umberto’s.”
“So you knew exactly what he was doing,” Koller said with a laugh.
“I picked up on it, yes.”
“Well, I did, too. That’s why I made him suffer before I killed him. I don’t like people messing with me or thinking they’re smarter than me.”
Even with the truck’s heat on high, Nick could not stop shivering. The bullet wound was throbbing more intensely now, perhaps irritated from his efforts moving the body. Chatting with Koller disgusted him, but it seemed like the only thing keeping him conscious at the moment. He was afraid that if he closed his eyes for anything longer than a blink, he might never open them again.
“Don’t worry. I won’t do to you and the women what I did to your pal Mollender,” Koller said, breaking a brief silence. “After all, a deal’s a deal.”
Nick dug his index finger into the bullet hole in his arm, and discovered that the intense pain caused by the maneuver made him feel more alert and even more determined. From now on, he decided, he would repeat the action again and again for as long as he could stand it. Until this was over between him and Koller, he wanted to feel the hurt. He wanted to feel the hatred.
By the time the killer eased the pickup to a stop in a wide, grassy field, Nick doubted he had the strength even to stand.
Once again, he dug his finger deeply into his wound.
With his gun drawn, Koller crossed in front of the truck and dragged Nick out, letting him drop to his knees on the ground. They were at a farm of some sort, reached by a road that had no traffic. Outside lighting was minimal, but Nick could see a number of barns, none with any windows, and another pickup truck. Koller hoisted him up by what remained of his shirt, and dragged him to the closest door. A man wearing a shoulder holster was standing guard.
“This the doc?”
“Yeah. Open up the door. You might not want to stick around in there for what’s going to happen.”
“I signed on to die for my country or to help someone else die for theirs. Whatever’s going to happen I can handle.”
They spoke as though Nick were not present, which in his current state was not that far from the truth. Nick again pressed his finger into the bullet hole, and was a bit dismayed that the pain he generated seemed less. Still, his alertness was enhanced. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he began casting about for anything he could use as a weapon, while at the same time testing his limbs.
The barn door slid open on a track and Koller pushed Nick inside. Nick’s heart sank at the sight of the Helping Hands RV parked in the center of the space. The interior of the barn was poorly lit, partly because the bulb hanging over the van, one of three dangling on cords from the rafters, was out. Then he realized that the RV, itself, although the passenger door was open, was dark.
Once inside the barn, Koller hesitated, then stopped.
“Where’s the other guard?”
“Butch?” the guard called out. “Butch, where in the hell are you?”
“Does he know what he’s doing?”
“He’s the best, sir. The very best.”
“Call him again.”
“Butch. Hey, buddy.”
Nick was awake now. Wide awake. Something was going wrong.
Koller was tense.
“Shit,” the killer muttered, scanning the barn, which was stacked with cartons, crates, and any number of places to hide. Violently, he pushed Nick down so he was leaning against the rear tire of the bus. Then he turned to the guard. “Gun out. Watch the door and stay here with him. If he opens his mouth, if he says one fucking word, shoot him in the balls. Don’t kill him.”
Nick was fully with it now.
Pistol ready, Koller cautiously approached the open RV door. Then he dropped down to one knee and peered inside.
“Jesus Christ!”
“What?” the guard called out.
“Your pal, Butch, the very best, is on the floor unconscious. There’s water everywhere, and unless I miss my guess, his prisoners are no longer in this bus.”
“Yes!” Nick whispered.
He could see that the killer’s face was contorted with anger.
“This door is the only way out,” the guard said, “and I was out there on duty every second, just like you ordered. I swear I was. If they’re not in the bus, then they’re still somewhere in this barn.”
A determined smile crossed Nick’s face. He had enough circulating adrenaline now to hold his head up and survey his surroundings. Dark corners, tall rafters, mountains of crates and boxes would give the women ample places to hide. Despite their being trapped inside, they were smart and resourceful and had the advantage of surprise on their side, as well as the fallen guard’s gun.
On red alert, Koller spun in a circle, his gun aiming wherever his eyes traveled. He walked backward a few feet, moving away from Nick, to scan areas of the barn that were obscured from his view by the RV.
“Do you have a flashlight in that truck?” he asked the guard.
“Um… I’m afraid it’s Butch’s truck, so I don’t know.”
“Of course… Come on now, ladies. I’ve got your friend Nick here. Do you really want to see him die?”
Koller’s voice was less commanding, Nick noticed, his confidence not as evident.
“Nobody else has to get hurt. But only if you come out from wherever you’re hiding. I’m going to get you, ladies. If I have to burn this barn to the ground, I’m going to get you.”
Nick dug his finger deep into the bullet hole in his biceps again. It was time to get active.
“Stay where you are!” he shouted. “Make him come to you. He can’t kill us. He needs-”
His words were cut short as the butt of a gun whipped against the side of his head, dazing him and knocking him over.
