The shot hit the tree and Hastings flinched and stepped back, taking cover behind the tree. Then he stepped back out and saw Reese running, limping, but running for cover. Hastings raised the Winchester, aimed for Reese’s leg, and pulled the trigger.
The shot boomed out and Reese flipped in the air. Hastings pulled the bolt back to put another shell in the breech, but now Reese had scrambled behind a tree.
Now they both had cover.
Birds flew away in the damp chilly air. A couple of moments passed by.
“Shit,” Reese said, loudly enough for Hastings to hear. “How did you find me?”
“Your scope,” Hastings said. “It reflected sunlight.”
“Goddammit. I forgot to shield that. Dumbass mistake.”
“It happens,” Hastings said.
“You working for Anders?”
“No. St. Louis police.”
A pause. Then: “Are you the one who followed me into the park?”
“Yeah.”
“Hell. Do you know I could have killed you back there?”
“No.”
“I could have, but I hesitated. If I’d thought you were working for Anders, I wouldn’t have hesitated.”
“You didn’t hesitate just now.”
“Well, I didn’t know you were a cop.”
“You do now. Why don’t you throw down the rifle and come out with your hands on your head.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“It’s over, Reese.”
“Don’t tell me it’s over,” he shouted. “Do you have any idea what that piece of shit did to me? What he’s doing to other soldiers?”
“What do you mean, ‘other soldiers’?”
“His relationship with Anders. Don’t you understand? Anders is getting rich off those contracts, and Preston is, too. By supporting an unnecessary war. Men are dying for that. Men with families.”
“That’s not my concern.”
“It isn’t? Just who the hell are you working for?”
“I told you. I’m a cop. Besides, this isn’t about soldiers in Iraq. You just want revenge.”
“Well, wouldn’t you? Preston knew I was innocent. The CIA told him I was, but he went ahead and put me in jail anyway. He lied. To him, I was nothing. A step in his career.”
“Look,” Hastings said, “if it’s any consolation, I believe you. But you can’t kill him. You do that, you’re nothing but a murderer.”
“He tried to have me killed. How do you think I got out of prison? He sent men there to bring me out and kill me.”
“What?”
“You heard me. God, don’t you know anything? He’s using you, too.”
“That’s my problem,” Hastings said. “But I cannot let you kill him.”
“You’d protect him?”
“It’s not about him,” Hastings said. “Listen to me, John. I know about your wife. I know she died while you were in. Do you think she’d want this?”
“You don’t know anything about her, so just shut your mouth.”
“I’m sorry for your loss. I’m sorry for the injustice. But you can’t kill him. Not in cold blood. Not in my town.”
Hastings heard quick steps behind him. He turned just in time to see Clu Rogers hit him in the face with the butt of a machine gun. Hastings went down. Not unconscious, but stunned. He reached for his rifle on the ground, but Clu stepped on it.
Clu pointed the machine gun at Hastings.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Clu said, a nasty smile on his face. He raised the gun and said, “We’ll put this on Reese, huh?”
The crack of a shot, and before Hastings could cry out, he saw Clu stop. A hole now in Clu’s forehead. Clu fell back. One shot, one kill.
Reese rammed another shell in the chamber and turned on Dexter Troy, who was back and to his left. Reese raised the rifle as Troy fired the M16 at him. Shots exchanged, but Reese taking three to Troy’s one. Both men went to the ground.
Troy was on his back. He had been shot through the stomach, the shot going out the back. Slowly, he sat up and reached for the M16, and Reese shot him again, this time through the heart.
Hastings ran over, the Winchester in his hands. He pointed it at Troy and said, “Stay where you are! You hear me! You go for that rifle, I’ll kill you!”
The shouts were for nothing. Dexter Troy was dead.
Hastings picked up Reese’s Enfield and flung it away. Then he turned Reese over. Reese was shot to pieces, his chest and neck open and bloody.
Reese was grinning at him. He said, “You never know who your friends are, huh?”
“Shit,” Hastings said, overwhelmed by the sight of it, the man red and busted apart. “Why did you do that?”
“He hadn’t earned the right to kill you,” Reese said.
“John. You shouldn’t have come back here.”
“I had to,” Reese said. “Now look at me.” He gasped out something like a laugh. “What folly. I guess I’m going now.”
“What are you talking about, ‘going’?”
“You know,” Reese said. Then he died.