Just as he was about to make his move, he heard a voice shout from across the room, “Drop the gun, lass.”
He saw the woman flinch at the sound of the voice. She turned her gun slightly.
Pop.
She grabbed her left leg as the bullet pierced slightly above the kneecap. She fell to a squatting position, still keeping her gun trained on O’Rourke.
A dark figure of a man dove over a short stack of crates, followed by three more shots from a different gun. He heard footsteps running away from the fracas.
The voice in the back of the room said, “Next one’s in the head, my dear.”
The woman’s gun clattered onto the stone floor.
He heard the man’s voice say, “That’s nice, very good.” “Are ye all right, Laurence?” the same voice asked.
Before O’Rourke could answer, the woman asked, “Who are you?”
“The name’s Sean O’Rourke. I’m Laurence’s brother and the new Chief of Staff for the Provisional IRA.”
Jake moved toward Hunt.
“Stop right there!” yelled Sean O’Rourke. “Not another move.” “She’s been shot. I’m unarmed, let me help her.” Jake said. “Okay but no tricks or you’re both dead.”
Jake knelt down beside Hunt. “How bad is it? Do you need to use the tourniquet?”
“It hurts like a son of a bitch but I don’t think it’s too bad.”
“I’m just getting my field first aid kit, okay?” Jake reached down and opened the pocket on his cargo pants.
“Do it slow. I want to see your every move.”
Jake opened the kit and pulled out a wad of padding and a Velcro strap. He placed the padding on the wound and wrapped the strap around her leg and tightened it enough to hold the wadding in place.
“I’m sorry, Jake. I didn’t see the other man.”
Jake’s hands were covered in her blood so he wiped them on his pants legs and then he helped Hunt to her feet. “Actually, the distraction helped Kaplan get away.”
The bullet had just grazed the outside of her left lower thigh. The injury looked worse than it was, even though the wound bled profusely. He held her up with his left arm while she stood on her right foot, clutching her left leg with her hand.
O’Rourke trained his gun on Hunt and Jake. He motioned to the Persian. “Mr. Kaplan got away. You need to find him. Find him and kill him. I’ll take care of these two.”
Nasiri smiled, his eyes glinting wickedly, and then he darted out of sight with his gun cocked and ready.
O’Rourke turned to his brother. “Well, Sean, I really didn’t expect to see you here this soon,” he said. “I expected you to wait a few days, but I’m happy you decided to come when you did.”
Sean replied, “You said you wanted me to see if anyone was following you when you left the Demon’s Lair. No one did that I could tell. But I saw a car sitting nearby with someone in it. It had been there too long so I went to check it out, and found a dead man with his neck snapped.
“And, brother, I’ve only owned the Demon’s Lair for a few months and I really don’t enjoy finding dead people outside my bar. It’s not good for business, you know. So, I figured it was probably related to you and decided I better drive over and check up on you.”
Jake caught movement to the left, and saw another man come around a stack of Kalashnikov AK-47s and into view.
Ian Collins.
Collins looked Jake in the eyes and said, “I ought to kill you here and now.”
The O’Rourke brothers had both jumped and turned their guns toward Collins when he suddenly rounded the corner of the boxes.
“Stop right there. Who are you?” Sean yelled.
“Shamrock.” The voice was cold, expressionless.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Sean said. “I withdrew the contract. You received my message, correct?”
“I received your message but you have it all wrong. The Provos weren’t paying me to kill Laurence, they hired another assassin for that. I was only to find this location and relay it to my Provo contact, which I presume is you. Consider that contract fulfilled,” said Collins. “I expect the remainder of your payment as soon as we get out of this hell hole.”
“I know very well what the contract was for. When I took office, I didn’t need the contract. I already knew about this place. The contract was useless, so I cancelled it. It remains cancelled. There will be no more money. I cancelled the other contract also.”
“With everything I’ve gone through, you’ll pay the money or you’ll die in this chamber.” Collins smiled.
“I’m sure we can come to some kind of accord,” Sean said.
“We’ll talk after I get what I came for,” Collins said.
“And what is that?” Sean asked.
“First, I want him.” Jake saw Collins pointing a gun at him, then he heard Hunt scream.
It felt like a sledgehammer struck him twice in the chest, in rapid succession. He felt himself tumbling between two sets of wooden crates.
Jake landed on top of Hunt.
CHAPTER 73
“Second, I want your brother.” Collins fired several shots into the crates before ducking behind a stack of Browning rifle crates.
The O’Rourke brothers retreated behind some crates marked Barrett .50 CAL.
“Son of a bitch.” Jake grabbed his chest. He was wearing his armored vest. He would be sore but he would be okay.
Jake saw Hunt crawling out to her gun, dragging her left leg behind. As she reached the Sig P226 and lifted it, he yelled.
Collins fired two rounds into her already injured left leg. She screamed in pain. Her gun bounced and landed at Jake’s feet.
Jake picked up the gun and leapt out from between the walls of crates, rolling across the floor. As he rolled into the clearing, he fired twice.
The first bullet struck Collins in the right side, almost the same spot where he had stabbed Jake. How fitting, Jake thought in a split second.
His second shot missed and ricocheted off the stone wall. Collins darted out of sight as if the bullet hadn’t fazed him.
Behind him on the other side of a wall of crates, he heard voices arguing. The O’Rourke brothers were fighting over who would get the cache of weapons stored in the Friar’s Chamber.
He heard someone yell, “Freeze.” It was Sterling’s voice.
Jake jumped at the sound of more gunfire.
Then Laurence O’Rourke yelled, “Sean … no! You son of a bitch.”
Sterling answered, “It’s a superficial wound, he’ll live. Now drop your weapon and lie down on the floor beside your brother with your hands where I can see them. The next shot will be to kill.”
Jake yelled, “Sterling watch out. There’s another one over here.”
It was too late. Collins stepped into Jake’s view and fired a shot toward O’Rourke and Sterling. Sterling fell to the stone floor with a bullet hole in his side.
When he saw Collins, Jake fired off two more shots. The first bullet hit the top of a crate, wood splinters flew in the air. Collins turned his eyes toward Jake as Jake squeezed off another round.
The bullet struck Collins on the right side of the head. Blood spattered onto the crate of AK-47 rifles. He went down and didn’t move.
Jake pointed the Sig P226 in the general direction of the O’Rourke brothers and fired as he ran toward Hunt. Grasping her right arm, he pulled her out of the line of fire while emptying his clip in the direction of the O’Rourkes.
Jake ejected the empty clip, inserted a fresh one, put a round in the chamber, and leaned down to check on Hunt. She was bleeding and in pain. “Hunt, are you alright?”
“My leg’s hurt bad, Jake.”
“Use your tourniquet. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Jake, remember. Collins and O’Rourke alive. Bentley’s orders.”