Midnight Sun (87 page)

The
boldness
of
his
statement
hit
her
like
ton
of
bricks.
He
made
no
pretense.
He
was
solely
focused
on
terror
and
revenge.
For
the
first
time
in
her
career
as
a
law
enforcement
officer
,
Lonnie
Wyatt
Johnson
was
terrified
—totally,
unabashedly
terrified.

As
the
van
started
into
the
street
,
it
lurched
sideways,
a
loud
crunch
exploded
with
deafening
force
.
It slammed to a sudden stop, pitching
Lonnie
and
Brassert
forward
off
the
seat.
The
knife
at
her
throat
slashed
across
her
skin
. A
shriek
of
pain
and
fear
escaped
involuntarily
from
her
lips
as
she
tumbled
to
the
open
floor
space
with
Brassert.
In the split second of flight through the van’s interior she
Lonnie
wrapped her left arm around her belly to protect the baby from the fall, kicked her leg back behind toward her butt,
yanked
her
pants
leg
up
and
whipped
the
small Walther
into
her
hand
. The pistol came out
with a “schlick” sound as the steel slid out of the fitted leather ankle holster.
The
round
mass
of
her
belly
made
it
impossible
to
breathe
as
she
maneuvered
in
the
tight
space.
She
forced
herself
to
keep
moving
,
flipping
the
safety,
thumbing
the
hammer
back
and
fingering
the
trigger
all
at
once.
Not
knowing
the
extent
of
the
cut
on
her
throat
,
she
feared
her
life
was
draining
out.
Lonnie
was
not
going
to
let
Brassert
touch
her
baby.
She
would
fight
to
the
last
second
of
life.

He
roared
in
a
rage
and
raised
the
knife
above
her
body,
tensing
to
plunge
it
into
her.
She
pointed the pistol and
squeezed the trigger again and again until the slide locked back on the empty chamber, all
seven
rounds
into
Brassert
’
s
torso
and
face.
The
shots
exploded
with
the
force
of
thunder
inside
the
cramped
space
of
the
van.
The
murderer
jerked
his
hands
to
his
face
and
throat
as
scores
of
eighth-inch
pellets
ripped
through
his
skin
and
cracked
against
the
ribs,
facial
bones,
and
teeth.
One
of
his
eyes
burst,
and
fluid
and
blood
sprayed
Lonnie
as
she
tried
to
squirm
away.

As
the
shots
rang
out t
he
driver
jerked
his
attention
from the blue minivan that had ramm
ed him
to
the
rearview
mirror.
He
whipped a pistol up and started to turn towards Lonnie
.
His attention suddenly turned back to
the
driver
of
the
blue
minivan
taxi
who had
jumped
out
of his vehicle
,
flailing
his
arms
angrily
and
swearing
in
a
throaty
-
sounding
foreign
language.
Brassert
’
s
partner
started to swing the pistol toward the oncoming cabbie when the cursing foreigner man
reached
inside
the
driver
’
s
window
and
jabbed
at
hi
s face with an unexpected ferocity
.
The
kidnapper
stiffened
abruptly
and
froze
in
place.
His
arms
dropped
to
his
sides
as
Lonnie
fired
her
last
round
into Brassert
.

As
the
boom
of
her
shots
died
away,
above
the
intense
ringing
in
her
ears
Lonnie
heard
the
minivan's
engine
accelerate
gradually.
No
tire
squealing
or
loud
revving
—it
just
drove
away
as
if
nothing
unusual
had
happened.