‘Now we all have to say thank you to Mike for making Quentin look so fine,’ said Jill.
‘Thank you, Mike,’ the children said almost in chorus.
Mike just sat there and smiled. He looked almost sad. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to be parted from Quentin. It was almost enough to make you feel sorry for him. Jill leaned forward and said in a quiet, comforting voice: ‘I want you to know that this is going to ease a lot of the pain in our family. I’m really looking forward to when my husband gets to see Quentin.’
Mike nodded. ‘I hope I can repay all he’s done for so many other families in Minneapolis, Mrs Patterson.’
She smiled. ‘Thank you, that’s true. Kevin has done so many good things as mayor.’
‘Like opposing anyone who’s tried to limit our God-given right to carry weapons,’ said Mike.
‘Yes, indeed,’ said Jill. She felt the smile stiffen slightly on her lips.
‘This military sniper’s rifle here, for example.’ Mike picked up the rifle. ‘It was purchased illegally, but it wouldn’t have been difficult to buy it legally. Isn’t it reassuring to know that we are such a well-armed people that everyone, absolutely everyone, is able to defend themselves against everybody else?’ He smiled broadly.
Jill Patterson swallowed. ‘Of course. It wouldn’t be fair if only a few of us could.’
Mike’s eyes had grown more intense, his voice higher. He was speaking more quickly. She could see that Siri had noticed it too, she’d stopped stroking the dog.
‘We’re able to defend our families,’ said Mike. ‘Because dying yourself isn’t the worst thing. The worst thing is to go on living after the people you love have all been killed. Don’t you agree?’ He nodded in the direction of Quentin, at the same time doing something with the rifle that made a metallic, oily sound. She assumed he was loading it.
‘Since it’s your husband who makes all this possible, as I said, I’m going to do for him exactly what politicians like him have done for families such as my own.’
Jill felt Siri take hold of her hand, and Simon stopped wriggling about in her lap. Jill’s mouth was dry and when she spoke her voice sounded hoarse and strange:
‘What would that be, Mike?’
‘What he and people like him did for me,’ said Mike Lunde as he looked down at the rifle, ‘was to put weapons in the hands of those who took from me everything I loved.’ He raised the rifle to his cheek. ‘So now it’s my turn.’
50
Hector, October 2016
Hector Herrer saw that Gerard, the security man JTTF had sent over yesterday evening, was hearing something through his headset. Hector had suggested he be included in the same loop but Gerard told him this wasn’t part of ‘JTTF’s protocol’. He knew it had to be something important because Gerard, who had so far been leaning against the hood on the passenger side keeping a lookout, straightened up suddenly and went for the gun in his shoulder holster. Hector lowered the window on the passenger side.
‘What’s up?’
Gerard held one finger to the earbud and lifted the other hand holding the gun — a Glock — to indicate that he was still listening. But Hector saw now that Gerard’s attention was drawn toward the store, Town Taxidermy. Hector took out his own gun and loaded it.
‘Copy that,’ said Gerard and took his finger away from his ear. Without taking his eyes off the store he said: ‘Message from the stadium. The store owner, Mike Lunde, is dangerous and potentially armed.’
‘Meaning what?’ said Hector, not because he hadn’t understood, but because he wanted it confirmed.
‘Meaning they think the store owner is the assassin. Is that Mike Lunde in there with them?’
‘Yeah,’ said Hector. He knew that now wasn’t the time to start handing out blame but had already worked out his own part in it. Others had been responsible for giving Mike Lunde the security clearance he needed to enter the Patterson home, but it was Hector who had told Gerard it was safe for Jill and the kids to go into the store alone. Of course, he could excuse himself by saying he was only following Jill’s expressed wishes. Excuse himself by saying that the view from out here in the street was as good if not better than from inside the store. Excuse himself by saying he had spoken to Lunde and rarely met someone who inspired greater confidence. But Hector had departed from his principle of being always, no matter what the hour, as close to the Patterson family as possible, and for that there could be no excuse. Hector was already out of the car and heard Gerard behind him, running to keep up.
‘We’re going into the store,’ Gerard said into the headset.
Right at that same moment Hector’s own security chief spoke into his earbud: ‘You get that message, Hector?’
‘Yeah, we’re on our way in.’
Hector had known Gerard for only a few hours but from the way he moved and readied himself he could see they must have gone through a similar training. So they didn’t need to exchange words but automatically split as they crossed the street so that they wouldn’t be seen from the store, then made their way separately from different sides toward the store window. Hector risked a quick look inside, but the lighting was dim, and all the stuffed animals in the window blocked his view so he couldn’t see much. He and Gerard moved in a crouch past the display window then pressed their backs against the wall on either side of the doorway. A handwritten sign hanging on the door handle said CLOSED. The O was drawn like a smiley. But Hector had noticed that when Mike Lunde opened the door to Jill and the children they had been moving straight toward the back of the store as the door swung closed behind them, so unless it was a spring lock the door should be open.
Gerard pointed to Hector and laid his hand flat on the top of his head and then pointed to himself — a tactical signal meaning you — cover — me. Hector shook his head firmly and returned the signal. After a moment’s hesitation Gerard nodded.
Hector put his left hand on the door handle, pressed down and pushed carefully.
It wasn’t locked.
Hector pointed to the top of the door with his gun then put the barrel against his lips. Gerard understood and nodded, he clearly recalled the jangle of the bell when Mike Lunde had opened up for Jill and the children.
Hector took two deep in-and-out breaths.
Then something happened to Hector that occasionally happened in situations like this. In his mind’s eye he saw the silhouette of his father’s head against the sun, and heard the deep voice, at once reassuring and challenging: ‘I see you.’
Hector pushed the door open wider, careful not to make the bell ring but just enough to enable him to slip inside. Bodyguards wear dark glasses for a number of reasons, and style is not among them. One is to avoid a situation in which bright sunlight makes the pupils so small that the bodyguard is temporarily blinded on entering a darker room. Hector pulled off his shades and tossed them aside before again raising the pistol in both hands. He had time to see the family sitting in a ring around Quentin, Jill facing him with silver duct tape over her mouth and hands behind her back. He had time to see Siri and Simon in chairs, hands bound by plastic strips to the struts on the chair backs. And he had time to see Mike Lunde, who was sitting beside Jill. And he had time to see the barrel of the rifle Mike Lunde was pointing at him.
Hector even had time to see the flash of light from the mouth of the gun.
And then it was as if he had been hit by a truck, he felt himself tumbling backward, out of the door, felt himself hit something and collapse onto the sidewalk, felt he couldn’t move, the light was disappearing. Felt someone take hold of the shoulder straps of the ballistic vest he was wearing under his jacket and pull him over the asphalt as the voice of the JTTF man whose name he could no longer recall spoke above him in a loud, panting voice: