What was he going to do when he got here? Would he bring in the regular FBI hostage negotiators? She tried to put herself in his position, and that answer came up a solid no. He would know Bershaw was desperate, probably know he was on the mind-altering drug that made him fast, smart, and strong. Alex wouldn’t take the risk that Bershaw would hurt her or the baby.
What would he do?
And her greatest fear was that he would try to sneak into the house and take on Bershaw alone. It wasn’t a macho thing but just how Alex was. He would see her as his responsibility, and his coming in alone as the best chance of drawing the killer’s attention away from her.
If she had not been pregnant, she would have already tried to take Bershaw down herself. He was fast and strong, but she had more than fifteen years of
But in her condition, the slightest mistake would cost her. She wouldn’t risk the baby unless there was no other way. If it came down to it, she would not let this psychotic kill Alex, even if it meant she and the baby didn’t make it. You didn’t stand by and allow the man you loved to die if you could prevent it, no matter what it cost you.
She had already rehearsed grabbing the knife in her mind a dozen times, never looking at it so as to give it away, but planning how to step, what to throw to distract him, what her targets might be.
She had to expect Alex to show up hours before he was supposed to show up. She had to be ready.
Right now, she had to pee. And she didn’t much want to do that with Bershaw watching her, but better that than to wet herself.
“ad?”
“What?”
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Let’s go.”
He followed her down the hall. “Go ahead.”
“Can I close the door?”
“No. Just pee. I’ll look the other way.”
“Thank you.”
She thought she might be able to use that, somehow, if she could think of a way.
While the woman was on the john, Tad turned away and dry-swallowed two more of the Hammer caps. He could feel the first ones start to wane, and a few seconds later, he took a third. He had built up a tolerance to the stuff by now, but it didn’t matter; the remaining caps were all going to be deactivated soon, anyhow, and any way you looked at it, this was going to be his last Hammer ride. When Ma and Pa at the portable lab heard about Bobby getting killed, they would get rid of the RV and hit the road for parts elsewhere. The plan he’d had of getting to the lab and mixing his own caps wouldn’t happen now. He could mix the stuff, but some of the chem was just beyond his ability to create from scratch. Bobby had never written his formulas down anywhere, figuring if the cops ever grabbed him, those would be his best bargaining chip.
He heard the toilet flush, turned and saw the wife stand up, her robe falling to cover the short nightgown. She had good legs under that rounded, pregnant belly, and he caught a quick glimpse of her bush. Maybe that was worth exploring, even though it wouldn’t be his first choice. Any port in a storm.
But there was something else he wanted to do first. That car was still in the garage. The wife could watch him trash her husband’s toy.
“Come on,” he said. “We have stuff to do in the garage.”
He led her down the hall.
“Sir, the snipers are set. We’ve got three, two in front, one in back. They know what our man looks like. If they see him, he’s history.”
“Thank you, John.”
Howard handed Michaels his revolver. “Point it at his head just like you would point your finger at his nose and pull the trigger. It will kick some and buck, so hold it two-handed if you can. A head shot is the only way to be sure to stop him.”
Michaels took the heavy black handgun and hefted it.
“Is your ring updated?”
“Yes.”
“You have six shots. If he’s still coming after that, reloading won’t help. Aim for the head. Don’t say a word, don’t hesitate, if you get a shot, take it. If you don’t, he’ll kill you.”
“I got it.”
“Leave your virgil on and sending. We won’t try to call, but we’ll monitor you. As soon as we see Toni, or you indicate that she is clear, we’ll come in.”
Michaels nodded. His mouth was dry, and his stomach fluttered.
“Whatever happens, he won’t be walking away from this.”
Michaels looked at Howard, realizing what he was saying. “Thank you.”
“Good luck, Alex.”
Michaels nodded. He took a couple of deep breaths and let them out, rubbed his eyes, and started toward his home to save his wife.
He was half a block away from where Howard and Jay were when he realized he had made his choice about taking the Hammer cap. No. His mind was his best tool, and he did not want to risk Toni’s life on his mind being fuzzed, even if it gave him the strength of Hercules to do so.
He would have to do it the hard way.
Toni watched, feeling detached, as Bershaw swung the pry bar and punched a bar-shaped hole through the safety glass windshield. Little squarish chips of glass flew like jewels under the garage lights as he pulled the bar back and struck with the ball peen hammer he held in his other hand. It took four or five hits, and the windshield was gone.
He had already done the headlights and taillights.
After the windshield, he walked around the car and shattered all the remaining glass, the sides, the rear, scattering glittering shards in all directions.
Then he started on the front fender, alternating the hammer and pry bar like some kind of mad drummer following a tune only he could hear.
It wasn’t until he started on the metal that Toni got an idea of just how much power he had. The heavy gauge steel of the car’s fender and hood not only buckled like aluminum foil, several times he actually punched holes right through, trapping his tools so that he had to yank them free. The impacts were loud, the
The destruction was terrible to watch. More terrible was Bershaw’s expression. He was laughing, having the time of his life.
The effort had to be burning him up, tearing muscles and tendons, doing major damage to his very bone structure, but he kept laughing and pounding, hitting with such force that the fiberglass handle of the hammer finally splintered and broke, leaving the rounded nose of the hammer buried in the passenger door, and the pry bar’s loop bent almost closed.
Toni realized that attacking this man physically would be suicide if she made even the tiniest mistake. Even with a knife.
After what seemed like a long time, he dropped the bent pry bar, rolled his shoulders, then turned to look at her. He stared at her for a few seconds, unblinking.
