Dead Man's Hand (37 page)

Chapter 3
7

Clouds dark and heavy with rain poured down on Vegas that evening.

Calvin popped a couple of pai
nkillers. Not a full dose,
just enou
gh to reduce the pain.
He
felt
as if he were
b
ack in college with
pre
-
game jitt
ers. He started to enjoy
the ride from the most powerful drug in the world
—
adrenaline.

He
looked
for Baxter
on
the quiet, unmoving monitor
. O
ut there
lurked a
high-powered scope set for him and Rache
l. Calvin got up
to choose his weapons.

He pushed the computer desk against the wall,
rolled up the area carpet
and
grabbed a round meta
l pin that lifted a
trap do
or
.

He followed the stairs into the damp, dark bomb shelter. On one side,
there was enough
canned food for several months. On the other, an arsenal.

He
took down an armful
of various weapons
and
then went to conceal them around his fortress.
Then, he got the call.

“
Yeah,
”
he
answered.

“
Everyone
’
s in place. Good luck, kid.
”

Calvin hung up
and
checked the monitors again. Silence. Nothing. Although he couldn
’
t see Baxter, he could feel the e
x-
M
arine
’
s presence.
Calvin heard Rachel
’
s footsteps behind him.
“
Are you ready?
”
he asked.

She
gave him a slight, timid nod.

In
what felt like a trance, he
moved to the emergency generator and switched the power off to the entire house, except for the computer room.
Total blackness
fell.

Calvin and Rachel moved to the garage.

Baxter
had circled the house, reject
ed the back exit as too obvious
and
then taken a p
osition on the
roo
f of a building down the street.
He had
a view of the
front right side
of Watters
’
hideout,
where he had a shot at anyone emerging from about three quarters of the house.
This was his third position in the last forty-five minutes.

He had a
7.62
x
51mm
M40
resting on a tripod
and
was blacked out against the tar and gravel of the roof. He would be hard to spot from another rooftop, let alone a helicopter.
A military
black-
camouflage tarp covered him and was little help against the increasing rain, the drops smacking loudly against the vinyl.

The intensity of the moment took him back to
his days in
Afghanistan.

As he waited, he replayed
the last con
versation with his employer. Sanders
had nerve. Baxter thought about just killing
Sanders
for a moment, but decided that was a bad option. Someone else might talk. No, that would ruin his rep.

He put on the thermal-imaging nightscope
and
was chambering a new round when he heard the first faint wails from police sirens.
A
row of patrol cars approach
ed
Watters
’
house from both directions and stop
ped
. With the road barricaded by the diagonally parked cars, six officers stood behind the vehicles with their weapons drawn.

Had Sanders
decided to use the cops and double-cross him?

If Watters slowed the
cops down, or even somehow
managed to get away,
Baxter
would attempt a head shot. Most likely he
’
d get another one when the cops led Watters out in cuffs.

The shooting started.
Glass shattered in the
house
and
cops ducked behind their open cruiser doors
as Watters returned fire. As two cops approached the house, a series of bombs detonated.
Concrete and metal flew around the neighborhood. The explosions sent
the cops scur
rying for cover.

Perfect—
with this much happening, he c
ould take Watters out
and
then vanish, unnoticed.

T
he
n he
saw something that gave him pause.

A group of cops circled the back of the building and disappeared
.

More gunfire ensued. Then quiet. Either Watters was in cuffs or dead.

Baxter
couldn
’
t
believe when f
our cops ran from the building, got into cars
and
rocketed away. They were already gone before Baxter realized that
only
three cops had gone in.

He had to move. The police had underestimated Watter
s
’
security and he didn
’
t have much time before the LVMPD would return with a much larger force, perhaps even SWAT.

He couldn
’
t allow a second raid to happen and Watters get caught. Baxter
’
s job was to kill Watters, period.

That time had come.

“
The
hit man
we are up ag
ainst seems to be slipping a little
,
”
Dale said to Jimmy.

Watters
was informed that Rachel was out.

Dale said,
“
Easy part done. Now, capture a killer, keep a suspected killer alive
and
hope that a Vegas leg
breaker is not setting us up.
”

He
rotated the knots out of his neck and surveyed the area.
“
Make sure everyone removes the
ir blanks and loads live ammo.
”

Jimmy made the call.

The observation point was the parked car a block from Watter
s
’
workshop. The entire workshop and surrounding area had been under long
-
distance police surveillance, outside the sniper
’
s perceived area of operations, so he wouldn
’
t detect them. The whole team was sitting on Dale
’
s
“
go
.
”

“
Let
’
s move
,
”
h
e said.

“
But we haven
’
t spotted
Baxter yet,
”
Jimmy said
.

Dale knew Baxter had a plan. But what was it?
“
I know and I don
’
t like it. Let
’
s pr
oceed with caution,
but remain out of sight.
Gradually tighten our surveillance circle.
”

“
I
f we move, Baxter will see us.
”

He
slammed his fist against the dashboard
.
“
Okay, let
’
s wait. But the first sign of Baxter and we
’
re gone.
”

Dale felt a sharp pain in his chest when the radio squawked again.

“
Target
B located and identified,
”
came over the radio.

Jimmy smiled.
“
Baxter
’
s taking the bait.
”

Dale
opened his cell
phone
and
grabbed the door handle when the same voice returned.
“
We lost him.
”

“
What?
”
He
grabbed
the radio.
“
Team leader, repeat.
”

“
Baxter has disappeared, sir.
”

Dale looked at Jimmy, who
rolled his eyes.

“
Baxter has breached the perimeter. They can
’
t see anything through the rain, Dale.
”

“
Bul
lshit!
Baxter is
not a ghost.
”

“
No, he
’
s just good at that part.
”
Jimmy hesitated be
fore adding,
“
Y
ou need to make a decision.
”

“
I know
.
”
He
check
ed
his gun.
“
Do we go in and blow our
cover, or do we wait
and
put Watters
’
life at risk?
Che
ck your weapon.
Baxter
is not going to give
hi
mself up.
”

Calvin
could at least exhale when Rachel was driven away and her safety was confirmed.
He hadn
’
t heard from Dayton, who was supposed to call when Baxter had been spotted. H
e
’
d seen
no sign of the killer through his monitors
until a motion sensor picked up movement
.

He knew Baxter was coming.

He shut off the computer monitor in
case the light gave him away. Then h
e
slipped on
night-vi
sion goggles and
positioned himself behind the computer room door.
The door was slotted so he could shoot out
ward
, but low enough to make a
n incoming
shot
difficult
.

H
e
heard the
click of the side door
and
Baxter step
ped
th
rough the doorway, equipped with a
Beretta 92FS
Compact M
and night goggles.

Calvin waited as Baxter neared, not risking a shot. He o
nly wanted to disable with a shot to the leg
.

When Baxter was within range, Calvin clicked back
and aimed low
. As he went to pull the trig
ger, his two-way radio said,
“
Baxter is in the house!
”

Calvi
n looked down for half a second and c
onsecutive, multiple shots ricocheted off the
front of the door, one through
the narrow metal slot. One inch to the left and Calvin
’
s head would have exploded.

When
he
peeked
back
through the slot, Baxter was gone.

This killer was good
and
Calvin only had a few minutes before the cops rushed the house.

Now
Baxter
knew this was a trap
. He
’
d be waiting
to pick off cops and escape.
It would be a firing zone.

Calvin
had to get Baxter first
and his odds were low
.
He
grabbed his
.45
and
checked the single action to make sure he had all eight rounds
.
Easing open the door, he poked his gun and head through the doorway, slipped in and sidestepped his way through the front room.
He hear
d
footsteps
upstairs.