Chunks of the rotor spun away, embedding themselves in the ground around the monument.
The tail end of the chopper, dislodged during the impact, fell on the electrical equipment used to broadcast President Thomas’ speech. Sparks showered the area. The lights went out a second later, plunging the stage into darkness.
The husk of the helicopter tumbled down the length of the monument, flames and smoke trailing behind it. Metal screeched as it scraped along the stone.
It destroyed the stage on impact.
Strobes of light came from the streets as people took pictures of the mayhem.
“Shoot him!” I screamed again. “Murdock isn’t—”
The agent attending to Thomas’ knee starched.
“Murdock isn’t what?” the president asked.
The agent didn’t respond.
No one else did either.
Murdock rolled to his back and sat up. His face was a mask of misery. His breaths came out as gurgles. Blood soaked through his shirt and began pooling in his lap.
“Murdock isn’t dead yet,” he wheezed.
I looked at the Desert Eagle, which was ten feet away.
It was so far.
I crawled toward it, each movement punishing my shoulder and knee. My left arm refused to cooperate, so I used the right to pull me along.
The agents positioned their guns under their chins again. Sammy lifted the pistol between her legs and pointed it at Nami’s forehead. Drew aimed his at the president.
My fury returned at the sight of it.
The pistol was still eight feet beyond my reach.
Murdock stayed in a seated position. He gave Thomas a bloody, weary grin. “I will not be robbed of my revenge.”
Smith wanted you to do this, I thought. He used both of us.
I wasn’t sure about anything related to Smith, except for that. He’d played everyone from the beginning, and right then, from somewhere safe, I knew he was watching all of us kill each other.
Six feet away.
How do you know that? Murdock thought.
He’s not here for the endgame is he? Why would he have asked me to help find you, but then let you get away?
He didn’t. I killed his men and escaped.
Five feet.
You only took out a handful of his flunkies—where were the rest?
Murdock didn’t respond. His marionettes held fast.
Four.
Where do you think you’re going? Do you truly believe that I’ll let you get to that gun before I complete my mission?
I stopped crawling and reached for the pistol. It was still three feet from my fingertips.
Murdock watched me. A stream of blood spilled between his lips and dripped from his chin. “Watch as I make history.”
“You’re so full of shit. All the mumbo jumbo you keep spewing is pure bullshit. If you cared about justice, you wouldn’t be slaughtering innocents.”
“Justice? You think this has to do with justice? All I seek is vengeance. Look at what you fight for! Look at what they did to me!”
Images of the desert flooded my mind. A cell. Knife. Severed finger. Hammer. Blood. So much blood. A chair of red-hot iron. A man named Alan Richards. A man who would become Murdock. And more. So much more.
The torrent of emotions and memories dropped away as suddenly as they’d come. I gasped, sucking in air, and fought to keep myself from passing out. I’d relived all Murdock’s torment and torture in a span of five seconds.
No one could have suffered what he had and maintained their sanity.
I understood his hate.
He deserved revenge.
And I had to deprive him of it.
I’m sorry, I thought.
Keep your sorry. I’m taking what’s owed me.
Drew thumbed back the hammer on his pistol. I could see his cheeks quivering as he fought against the control.
Murdock still held my gaze. “When the bow breaks, the cradle will fall, and down will come America, cradle and all.”
My fury boiled over. I saw red. Tasted blood. I reached for the gun again, though I hadn’t moved any closer to it. All of my anger, despair, and disgust focused on the handle.
It vibrated in the grass.
“What?” Murdock gaped at the gun. “That’s impossible.”
The pistol slid across the ground, landing in my palm.
Before I could think about what had happened, I swung it around and aimed between Murdock’s eyes. “Pop goes the weasel, asshole.”
The enormous recoil sprained my wrist as it bucked.
The top part of Murdock’s head disappeared in a red mist.
His nearly decapitated body fell backward.
Everyone around me slumped again as death spasms rocked Murdock’s limbs.
The Bridge disintegrated.
Sammy and Nami ran over to me.
“Did you just use the force?” Nami asked. “Holy fuck balls.”
I tried to reply, but couldn’t form the words. I was fading fast.
Sammy tenderly touched my face and leaned over me. Her lips moved, though I couldn’t hear what she said. I willed her to kiss me again.
It didn’t work.
The Secret Service agents yelled at Drew. He dropped his gun and ran over to me. His hands pressed against my shoulder. He shouted back at the agents. They ignored him.
The pain that should have come from the pressure on my shoulder didn’t hit me. I knew I was in deep trouble then. My body was unresponsive.
Eyes went out of focus. Sounds had a tinny quality.
I focused on speaking one last time.
“Hooah.”
I slipped away.