WHEN THE MAN stepped into plain sight, Derek could scarcely believe his audacity. He came alone, his gun undrawn, hands stuffed in the pockets of his tan overcoat. Stepping cautiously to avoid the mud slicks and shin-snagging crevices in the bedrock, he regarded the two dozen fur-clad warriors with the detached interest of a visiting anthropologist. After roaming their breadth, his gaze settled in on Majka, Luka, and Derek himself, who grinned savagely and mimed a mocking finger-waggle wave.
“Derek McCulloch. You’re under arrest for the kidnapping of Brian Wong and Enoch Motes, assault with a deadly weapon, and attempted murder.” His voice carried well through the clearing, rising buoyant over the dull roar of Whitetooth Falls. “Lay down any and all weapons and place your hands behind your head.”
Luka ran his tongue along the back of his teeth. It made a wet, ugly sound. “You’re a little outside your jurisdiction, eh, detective?”
“I could say the same thing about the two of you. Shouldn’t you be running petty cons on Ferry Street or gunning down washed-up wise guys in the bus station bathroom?”
Luka extended his arms. “Bigger and better things, bro.”
“A funny way to describe life in prison.”
Laughing, Luka brushed a rogue pine needle from his shirt. “We’ll see how that goes. So yeah, you’ve given your little cop spiel. And I’m officially resisting arrest. Derek, what about you?”
Derek pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, forcing a jet of spittle through the gap in his front teeth. “Shit, what’s one more felony at this point, right?”
Luka shrugged. “I see one cop, two perps, and no paddy wagon. Where do we go from here?”
“I suppose I call in my deputies.” The detective raised one hand and snapped his fingers. The sound echoed across the clearing. Rustles in the treeline revealed men in full camo, MP5s braced tight against their padded shoulders. Even putting aside the knock-off fatigues, Derek could tell at a glance these weren’t enlisted officers. They moved without the stiff-shouldered bravado of badges, their stride sleek and predatory. He struggled to place them in some sort of context. Mercs? Even if Moore’s professional ethics bent far enough to permit them, surely a Niagara Falls cop didn’t have that sort of coin lying around.
The answer appeared shortly after the camouflaged men did. Resplendent in a finely-tailored black suit, Frank Ballaro stepped from the foliage. A smile of savage hunger tore across his face. He held an MP7 in his pudgy, ring-encrusted hands, his fingers twiddling compulsively against the handle and barrel.
“Good to see you again, Volchyin. Lucky Luke they called you, right? Looks like your luck’s run out.”
Pain needled through Derek’s jaw. He realised he was clenching his teeth hard enough to crack enamel. Pulling them apart felt like prying up a rusty sewer lid; every muscle in his body threw itself into the action. His finger wriggled into the Governor’s trigger guard, traced lovingly up and down the crescent of metal. Even if everything else about this lunatic expedition turned out to be a bust, putting a bullet in that smug asshole’s fat face would make the whole thing worthwhile.
Luka, for his part, was unfazed by Ballaro’s presence. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
The smile sutured shut into a wrinkled frown. The man’s whole face seemed to collapse, become almost orc-like in its animosity. “You coward piece of shit. You think you can kill my boys and I’m just gonna forget?”
“Blood for blood, padre. My babushka sends her regards.”
The cop spoke in the placating tones of a salesman who senses a client getting away from him. “Still not too late to give yourself up, Derek. I’ve got Ballaro’s word you can turn yourself in with no harm to you. But if you opt out, well . . . sunset’s still a few minutes away. More than enough time for Ballaro’s boys to punch your boss’s ticket.”
Luka smiled. “That’s where you’re wrong, bro. These guys? They’re old country, man. Pure bloodline. I ran with them in the silver. I know. They don’t bow to the moon. The moon bows to them.”
With that, he dropped to his knees and hell leapfrogged over him.