Part Ten:
Blood
1
Logan sat on the kerb as blue light strobed around him, the place awash with cops and paramedics.
It had been an hour since Collins shot Raines.
Randall Webb walked to Logan and stood over him on the sidewalk. Logan looked up at him.
‘The next thing you’re going to do,’ Webb said, ‘is go back to your hotel, pack and get on the first flight home.’
Logan frowned.
‘What about the guns? Our guns.’
‘What guns?’
Logan nodded and bowed his head.
Webb walked away from him.
Logan stood, his legs still unsteady. He wasn’t sure if they would hold him. They did.
He walked to the far side of the street to an ambulance which was parked with its rear doors open. As he came around the doors Cahill looked up from the ambulance steps and smiled at him.
‘How’s your head?’ Logan asked.
‘Feels like someone hit me with a hammer,’ Cahill said, touching the padded dressing a paramedic was securing on the side of his head.
‘He’ll be fine,’ the paramedic told Logan. ‘Bullet just grazed him. But he should get it looked at when you get home.’
Cahill thanked the man and stood.
‘Webb told us to go home,’ Logan told him.
Cahill shook his head. ‘I can’t. Not yet.’
Logan stared at him.
‘I need to ask Webb a favour.’
‘Don’t you think that we’ve used up all our goodwill already?’
‘Maybe. But I need a favour anyway.’
‘You are a stubborn—’
Cahill waved him off and started walking across the street to find Webb. Logan didn’t have the energy to follow him so he sat on the steps of the ambulance and watched.
Jake Hunter and Danny Collins walked over to the ambulance from the chaos of the diner.
‘How is he?’ Hunter asked, looking at Cahill.
‘He’s got a hard head.’
Hunter laughed.
‘I noticed. And you?’
‘I’m okay. But if you don’t mind I won’t stand.’
Hunter reached out a hand. Logan took it and they shared a firm handshake. Collins did the same.
‘You probably saved someone’s life in there,’ Hunter told him. ‘We owe you a thanks.’
Logan didn’t know what to say, so said nothing.
‘I heard that Raines is still hanging on,’ Collins said. ‘Tough son of a bitch. Took three slugs.’
‘And the rest of his crew?’ Logan asked.
Collins shook his head.
‘That guy Grange,’ Hunter said. ‘He’s some cowboy.’
‘Still an a*shole,’ Collins added.
Logan wanted to laugh but found that he couldn’t.
‘Take care,’ Hunter said.
They turned to leave Logan at the ambulance. Hunter stopped halfway across the street and turned back to Logan.
‘They got the guy over in Scotland,’ he shouted. ‘Shot a cop before he went down.’
The words rattled around in Logan’s head like a bullet, tearing through the delicate tissue of his brain.
Shot a cop.
Becky.
2
Cahill found Webb outside the door of the diner talking to an FBI press officer.
‘Is he dead?’ Cahill asked. ‘Raines.’
Webb turned to look at Cahill and told the press woman to give him a few minutes. She headed off to a wooden barrier where the massed ranks of the press had already assembled, their flashbulbs popping as she approached.
‘No,’ Webb told Cahill. ‘Not so far, anyway.’
‘Will he make it to trial?’
‘Initial indications are that he will.’
Cahill looked back over at the ambulance where he had been treated and saw Logan walking away from it frantically punching a number into his phone.
‘Why did he do it?’ Webb asked. ‘The suicide mission. I mean, walking into a place full of men with guns and opening up.’
‘Maybe he got tired of it all. It happens.’
Cahill scuffed his feet on the sidewalk. ‘Sorry to hear about your agent,’ he said.
Webb nodded.
‘I appreciate that,’ he said. ‘But I want you and your friend out of here, like, yesterday. I don’t need the headache.’
‘Logan’s leaving today.’
Webb’s head tilted to one side. ‘And you?’
‘There’s something I need to do.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I need your help doing it.’
‘You’ve got stones, I’ll give you that.’
‘It’s been said before.’
‘I’m fine,’ Irvine told Logan as he walked away from the noise and the crowd outside the diner.
He put a finger in his ear as another ambulance whooped on its way to the hospital. Or maybe it was the morgue.
‘It wasn’t me who got shot,’ she said.
‘What happened?’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘I’ve got the time.’
‘We were following up a lead. Going to speak to some witnesses – a couple of prostitutes. Turns out this guy Butler had been hiding out with them and he came out shooting. He got Kenny Armstrong.’
‘Is he okay?’
‘Yes. Lost a couple of fingers, though.’
‘What about Butler?’
‘He’s dead. I watched a truck crush his car while he was still inside.’
‘How do you feel about that?’
‘Probably for the best.’
Logan was surprised at the cold venom in her voice. Had never heard her sound that way before.
‘He was a bad guy,’ she said, as if feeling the need to explain her reaction.
‘I’ve seen my fair share. You don’t need to apologise for saying that.’
‘I know. It’s just …’
Neither of them knew what else to say.