Hard News

They stepped outside. Nobody. She sca

Oh, no…

Jack squinted, orienting himself.

"Car's on the other side of the building. That way." He pointed.

"Let go of me!"

He released her hair but took her firmly by the arm and led her forward. She recalled what he'd said, about being amercenary soldier. She said, "If you let me go I'll give you eight thousand dollars."

"No."

"I can get it for you right now."

Jack was walking more slowly now. He seemed to be considering what she was saying. Finally he shook his head. "Not enough."

"Maybe I can get a little more." She thought desperately about where she might get some cash.

"How about fifty?" Jack said.

"I don't have fifty."

"Forty-five."

Tears in her eyes. "I don'thave that. I can get… maybe twenty. I don't know. From friends maybe…"

"Forty-three thousand," Jack said.

"I…" She shook her head.

"Tell you what," Jack said. "You give me thirty-nine thousand five hundred and I'll let you live. I'll let you walk away."

More tears. "But I can't get that much."

"Thirty-eight two."

When she glanced at his face a sick smile on it, she knew that he was just being cruel. He was playing with her, reciting the odd numbers. And whether she had fifty thousand or a hundred he wasn't going to let her go. This was business and the bargain he'd made was with Lee Maisel. Jack's job was to kill her.

They were on the sidewalk now, deserted except for a homeless guy in the middle of the block. The street was shimmering with a light rain that wasn't so much falling as hanging in the air.

Jack said, "This way," and tugged her forward. Ahead of them, on Broadway, a few cabs and cars bounded up- and downtown. Maybe she could tear away and sprint the half block to the corner. She'd just charge right into traffic and hope she didn't get hit. Maybe she'd be lucky the same way Randy Boggs wasunlucky at Lance Hopper's apartment building and a cop car would be cruising past.

But Jack's grip was fierce and, besides, he still had his gun in his other hand, hidden inside his jacket.

Jack stopped at a car. He slipped his pistol in his pocket and reached into his other pocket to get the keys.

"Hey," the drunk called, staggering in their direction. His head drooped forward in his stupor. His clothes were drenched from rain and he looked like a straggly mutt. "Change? For something to eat. You got some change?"

"Shit. Fucking people in this town," Jack muttered, pulling the keys out of his pocket. He leaned down and said to Rune, "I can feel you, honey. You're thinking the guy comes up and he's going to distract me and then you'll run for it. You think I'm stupid?" He shoved her in the car. "You think I'm not expecting that?"

Nearby now, the homeless man called, "Change, please?"

Jack, his eyes still on Rune, said to him, "Fuck you, mister."

The drunk suddenly stood up and became completely sober. "Fuck you too, Jack," Randy Boggs said and leapt forward, slamming his fist into Jack's face.

"Randy!" Rune cried.

"Run!" Boggs shouted as he grabbed Jack around the waist and tried to pull him to the sidewalk.

Rune scooted out of the car fast. She hesitated, watching them scuffle. It wasn't a fight – they were wrestling. Boggs was gripping Jack's shoulders, pi

"Run, damn it!" Boggs shouted again.

She did. To the nearest corner, to a phone kiosk. Hitting 911 as she watched the men, on the ground now, a dark squirming mass, half in, half out of the street. She told the calm voice of the police dispatcher about the fight, about the gun. By the time she'd hung up, she heard sirens. Distant, but moving in close. She thought she should go back, distract Jack, hit him with something. But she didn't move. For some reason an image of Courtney came into her mind and she thought, No, even if Claire's back, I can havesome role in the girl's life and it wouldn't be fair to her to risk myself. This was their battle now.

Then Rune saw Jack break free and scramble away. He had the gun in his hand. Randy leapt back into the street, scrambling beneath a car for cover. Jack fired two fast shots at him then turned to run just as three blue-and-white police cars squealed around the corner. The officers poured out, shouting like madmen for Jack to stop, to drop the gun. He fired at their cars twice and turned to run but he slipped and went down on one knee.

"Drop the weapon," a metallic voice came over the loudspeaker.

Jack leapt to the side and lifted the gun again.

The big sparking explosion of a shotgun was like a thunderclap. Jack tumbled backwards. He tried to get up, muttering some distorted words. Something about "pictures," Rune thought. The fatman lay back. His body convulsed once. Then he was still.

Ten squad cars, with lights flashing, were parked in front of the Network building. Several EMS ambulances were here too and, for some reason, so were two fire trucks. Already the crowd of spectators was large. Rune noted with a laugh to herself that the three news crews on hand to capture the story on tape were all from the competition; no one at the Network seemed to have heard about the incident.

Rune was standing next to Randy Boggs, who leaned against a squad car. His hand and chin were bandaged. Jack had missed when he'd fired those two shots at him but he'd cut himself in several places during the fight. (He seemed most upset because the ugly tan suit he wore was torn and greasy.)

Bradford Simpson, however, had been hit by Jack's bullet but only in the leg. He'd be all right.

Lee Maisel was in custody.

"How did you get here?" Rune asked, shaking her head in confusion.

"I went to your houseboat – saw what'd happened there. I'm plenty sorry about that. Did Jack do it?"

"Indirectly." She didn't mention the actual arsonist was three years old.

Boggs continued. "I just came to the TV station here to see if maybe the guard or somebody could tell me where you were. I saw you and Jack coming out of the back door. Didn't know what was going on but I figured it wasn't good. And that I better do something about it. So I pretended to be a – you know, homeless man so I could get in close."

A detective came up to her and said, "Could you give us a few more details, miss?"

Rune answered, "Can we be alone for a couple minutes? Just him and me? Then I'll tell you everything."

The detective nodded. He walked over to the medical attendants, who were putting Jack's body on a gurney.

"I thought you'd taken off," Rune told Boggs angrily.

He stared at the ground, not able to return her gaze. "I just went down to Atlanta for a day or two to get my money and then I was coming back. I was going to do that all along -I have some business to take care of here."

"Business?" she asked skeptically.

"I'm giving some of my money to the family of this friend of mine from Harrison. He got himself killed

'cause he was my friend. Anyway, Icouldn't leave -remember, Mr Megler said I had to stay in New York until the case was officially over?"

"When has obeying the law ever meant anything to you?" Rune snapped. "Why didn't you tell me about you and Jack?"

"Was a new suit," he said, studying at his torn sleeve. Then he looked up, focused on the flipping lights atop a squad car. "Was the deal I made with him."

"Him?" Rune asked in disbelief. "That son of a bitch?"

"Way I was brought up is you don't snitch."

"He used you!"

"Know that now. Didn't then. Didn't until just a few days ago."

"Didn't you think it was kind of fu