Free Blood and Ashes by Matt Hilton

jutted her chin, her gaze skyward. Vince grinned, but then he turned back to the road. He nosed the Ford out of the alley, looking for the Lexus. It was a good way down the main street, accelerating towards the town limit signs.
    ‘Where’s she going?’
    ‘To her father, I’m guessing,’ Vince said as he pulled into the road.
    ‘You going to stop her, Vince?’ Her eyes flashed with excitement.
    ‘Would like to, babe, but not yet.’ The plan was to see to Millie inside the house without Sonya bearing witness. He would have done it too if it hadn’t been for that damn cat! He touched the scratches on his face and found that they were still oozing blood. He cursed under his breath. ‘But the plan was always flexible.’
    ‘It was?’
    ‘Yeah.’
    ‘No one told me.’
    ‘Didn’t want to worry you, babe.’
    ‘What’s to worry about? At least next time I get to watch . . .’
    ‘Sure, babe,’ Vince said. He gave the Ford an extra nudge so that he still had a view of the Lexus up ahead. Rain had begun to fall with more vigour now, splinters of ice mixed in with it, and visibility was little more than a few hundred yards.
    ‘Maybe next time I can, like, help?’
    Vince sniffed. ‘Not a good idea, babe.’
    ‘Why not? You know I’ve got what it takes.’
    Vince recalled the way Sonya wielded a knife. A redneck trucker had tried his luck with her in the washroom of a roadside diner. Vince almost felt sorry for the punk. Yeah, she had what it took all right.
    ‘Griffiths’ visitor might be there.’
    Sonya shrugged. ‘You mean that lame guy?’
    Vince nodded. The way the man had stared back at him had stuck like a thorn in his brain. It was a constant scratch. The more he thought about it, the more he felt uneasy. The killer’s eyes might only have been a trick of the light, but Vince had to concede he’d need to take his presence seriously. It was no coincidence that he had turned up at the Griffithses’ house at the most inopportune of moments. Vince got the feeling that Don Griffiths had called in the man as extra muscle.
    Those damn emails, he thought. Now Griffiths was on high alert and readying himself.
    ‘He could be more dangerous than he looks,’ he said.
    Sonya snorted, then reached into her jacket pocket. She pulled out a flick knife and snicked open the blade. ‘An old gimp? What the hell is he going to do to stop us?’
    Kill us.
    Vince didn’t say the words, but they went through him like a jag of electricity. He gripped the wheel, took a sharp glance over at the Seven-Eleven at the outskirts of town. The lot was busy with customers but there was no sign of who Vince expected.
    ‘Now where the hell do you think Rooster and Cabe are? They were supposed to meet us here hours ago.’
    ‘Probably got themselves in trouble on the drive over,’ Sonya said. ‘You know Rooster? He’s, like, a complete nut, that boy!’
    ‘Not like Cabe to let him get outa line, though,’ Vince mused.
    ‘Rooster brings trouble to him. It’s his ugly face, I guess . . .’ Sonya fiddled with the knife, closing and opening it again.
    She had a point there but Vince didn’t add to it. Rooster and Cabe were a pair of goons, sure enough, but usually they were reliable.
    Vince didn’t think that their absence would change anything. The rest of the gang had got in last night and had already set up. And even without Rooster and Cabe, they far outnumbered those who would be in the Reynolds house.
    A fucking cat won’t be enough to save you this time, Millie, he thought as he dabbed a finger to his oozing wounds.
    Even the man with killer’s eyes won’t be enough.

Chapter 11
    Ordinarily direct action is the order of play. Throughout my military career and beyond I’ve always believed in taking the war directly to my enemies. Sitting around waiting to be attacked never plays well with me. Except this time I’d no option.
    I looked across to where the two small children clung to their grandfather’s legs,