“Don’t move,” the man beside me said.
I turned and tried to bring my pistol up toward him, but he blocked the move and knocked the gun out of my hand. He lashed out with his own weapon, but I ducked and rolled and reached my hand beside a kitchen cabinet, where I kept a baseball bat as a last line of home defense.
I swung it at the gunman and knocked the pistol from his hand before driving the thick end into his nose and knocking him cold.
Before I could reach for my pistol, the second man grabbed me, and we fell into a grapple against one of the counters. I used the bat to knock the gun out of his hand, but he reached for a butcher’s knife and lunged for me.
I parried with the bat and rolled clear of the next attack. I swung and caught his forearm, causing him to drop the blade, which landed with a clatter. I didn’t waste a moment in pressing my advantage.
As he stepped back and tried to find another weapon, I kicked his right knee, caught him on the shoulder with a heavy blow from the bat, and swung the pommel into his face, dazing him. I followed this combination with a headbutt that knocked him flat.
The front door caved in with a crack and crash of wood splintering, and I grabbed my gun and ran into the hallway to see three more masked men enter my home.
The first rushed me, and we wrestled for control of my gun. I pulled the trigger and the sound of two gunshots deafened me, but neither of us relinquished our hold. His accomplices joined the fray, trying to pull me off the weapon. I knew if I let go, I was a dead man, so I clung to the gun and wrenched it clear, but the momentum was too great and I lost my hold on it. The pistol spun clear across the room and hit the far wall
The trio pushed me clear of their scrum and the nearest tried to shoot me, but I ducked and drove my fist into his groin. The crack of the gunshot was so loud it stung in my ears, but I didn’t miss a beat. As he doubled over in pain, I swung my elbow up into his face, breaking his nose and knocking him cold.
I pushed past him as he fell and squared up to his two accomplices, who trained their pistols on me. I wasn’t afraid but rushed at them and threw my fists at the taller of the two. I sidestepped his shot and moved between the men. I drove my elbow into the taller one’s face and punched his accomplice in the jaw. Both dazed, they staggered back clutching their heads. I didn’t hesitate, knocking them down with a furious combination of punches.
Their bodies fell with heavy thuds. In the stillness that followed, I heard nothing but the roll and crash of the ocean.
Then came footsteps and the voice I’d been expecting all along.
“Impressive, Mr. Morgan,” Raymond Chalmont said. “But it will do you no good.”
I turned to see the Frenchman standing on the terrace, pointing a machine pistol at me through the open doors.
Chapter 93
“Don’t move,” said Chalmont. “Did you really think you could walk away from what you’ve done?” he asked, stepping closer. “Did you think you could simply resume your old life after crossing my path, Mr. Morgan?”
I didn’t answer but instead kept my eyes focused on the gun, preparing for the shot I was certain would come. I hadn’t been expecting to be the one staring down the barrel of a gun, and looked longingly across the room at the spot where my own pistol had fallen.
“You have wounded our organization, but for as long as I’m free it will never die. Lawrence designated me his successor. I know where our money is hidden, who our members are all around the world,” Chalmont told me. “Under my leadership we will regroup and return stronger than ever.”
“You will face justice for your past crimes and for what’s happened tonight,” I replied. “You will rot in prison.”
He smiled. “You mean your surveillance system? My people and I will raze to the ground this house, your video footage, and the panic room where you have stashed your girlfriend.” He paused to let his words sink in. “Yes, I know about that, Mr. Morgan.”
I glared at him but said nothing.
“I want you to understand the pain I’m going to inflict on everyone you care about. I want you to consider that before you die.”
Then I heard the sound I’d been dreading: locks opening upstairs and the noise of the concealed panel retracting.
“She doesn’t want to sit in that little coffin and watch you die,” Raymond said. “It seems she is eager to join you.”
I heard Justine’s footsteps upstairs as she crossed the landing. She must have been watching the exchange on the house surveillance system and known there was no point staying hidden because Chalmont was aware of her location.
I couldn’t risk him hurting Justine so I lunged for him. The suddenness of my movement startled him and we wrestled for control of his machine pistol.
He kicked me and I swung for him but missed. As he stepped back and ducked, he snatched the pistol away from me.
We stood there for a moment, me glaring at him from the wrong end of the barrel of his gun. I saw his finger tighten around the trigger and knew my end had come.
“Jack!” Justine cried, and I turned to see her enter the room with my gun raised in our direction.
She didn’t hesitate, but shot him once in the leg and a second time in his side.
Chapter 94
Chalmont cried out as he was knocked backward and fell to the floor moaning in agony.
“Jack!” Justine yelled, running over to me.
We embraced and I kissed her before taking back my gun.
I aimed my pistol at the wounded man, who glared at me through his pain.
“Our friends in US Intelligence have been monitoring the border, watching for your entry,” I said.
Eli Carver had offered whatever support was necessary to apprehend the remnants of the Monaco conspirators, the last of the men who’d tried to kill him.
“You came in through Dallas,” I told Raymond. “I’m guessing because you thought it wouldn’t be as likely to be watched as some of the other airports. And you arrived by private jet to further minimize risk, traveling under a false identity, which was the first of your many crimes on US soil.”
Few people had any real idea of America’s true surveillance capabilities at its borders. I don’t know whether it was Homeland Security, the NSA or both, but an official body’s facial-recognition software had flagged Raymond Chalmont the moment he’d entered the terminal building.
“You were followed from the airport to Los Angeles and the rental house where you met with the other men who came here tonight to kill us. We needed to catch you in the commission of a serious crime in the United States to avoid legal wrangling over extradition, and since I knew you’d come for me, I agreed to act as bait. I hadn’t expected to be facing you unarmed.”
Justine elbowed me. “We’re going to have to talk about your communication issues.”
“Sorry,” I said to her. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“You’ll never—” Raymond began, but I cut him off.
“Yes, we will. You came here to commit murder. Every aspect of your trip has been recorded, including your actions tonight.” I nodded at a camera mounted in the corner of the room. “You’re going away for a very long time.”
“Hello?” a voice called through the broken front door.
I turned to see Mo-bot and Sci leading a group of FBI agents and LAPD officers into the house.
“Good to see you both,” I said.
Salvatore Mattera and his captain, Linda Brooks, were among those who followed them in. Sal had his arm in a sling.