Free Flee by Ann Voss Peterson, J.A. Konrath Page A

next to the elevator and jumped out, shucking the duffle and
shoulder bag. I grabbed a glance of Kaufmann through a shattered back window.
    He
lay on his side in the back seat. His hands were bound in front of him with
handcuffs, and he clutched a bloody rag around his injured fingers. Duct tape
wrapped his ankles. He looked small, pale, the lines bracketing his mouth and
digging across his forehead etched deep. I was sure the past few hours had
taken their toll, but at least he was alive.
    Now
I had to keep him that way. "Stay down."
    He
hitched himself up on one elbow. "We need to call the—"
     "You
need to lay your ass back down."
    He
didn't move, damn fool. Probably thought he was going to save me. Again. He
didn't realize it was my turn to pay him back.
    I
checked Cory's gun and handed it to Kaufmann. He grasped it in his uninjured
hand. I pulled my semi-automatic from the back of my waistband. "Stay
down. If anyone comes looking for you, kill them."
    "Carmen,
I..."
    "Just
listen to me. Cory isn't as bad as the ones we've got coming after us now.
Shoot first, and shoot to kill."
    I
pulled away from his bewildered expression and took position behind a concrete
support. I fitted my weapon tightly into the web between thumb and forefinger
and wrapped my second hand around the first. I moved my index finger to the
trigger. The odors of exhaust and burned rubber coated the back of my throat.
The roar of an approaching engine reverberated off concrete, the sound
amplified by the corkscrew shape of the ramp.
    The
music goes round and round…ohhh…and it comes out here.
    I
could see the SUV, winding toward me. It emerged on the sixth floor. The moment
I saw the driver's eyes, I squeezed the trigger.
    The
report cracked in my ears. I let my wrists move with the kick of the first
shot. When it settled back, I gave him a second tap.
    The
windshield cracked, splintering into hundreds of tiny lines, obscuring the
driver's face. The SUV kept hurtling forward, across the parking level. It hit
the half wall hard, reared up as the concrete crumbled, and plunged over the
edge. The loud crash of vehicle and pavement shuddered up my spine.
    When
I got back to the car, Kaufmann was sitting upright in the seat, Cory's pistol
in his bound hands. He stared at me for a moment before he finally spoke. "I'm
pretty sure you haven't been entirely honest with me."
    A
typical Kaufmann understatement. "I'll explain. Later. As much as I can."
    To
his credit, he didn't say a word, just let me help him out of the car. I cut
the duct tape around his ankles with the utility knife I'd bought. I picked the
handcuffs binding his wrists and stashed the cuffs in the duffle. We ducked
into the elevator. He sagged against the wall as I hit the button to take us to
the lobby.
    The
elevator car started down, moving much more smoothly than the high speed car I'd
taken to the 95th floor. The cramped quarters smelled strongly of sweat and
stress and even more strongly of blood.
    I
eyed the rag wrapping Kaufmann's fingers. "Let me see your hand."
    He
unpeeled what looked like a girl's t-shirt and held out three fingers. I
examined the bloody stump, and my stomach did a little flip. I'd seen many
injuries worse than this, but this was Kaufmann and he was hurt because of me.
I needed a second to regain my balance.
    "You
killed the driver. You caused…" His lips thinned into a line.
    I
pulled my gaze up to his eyes. "It's what I do. What I really do."
    I
wasn't sure what I expected. Shock. Disbelief. Repulsion. Instead, Kaufmann
offered a simple nod. "Later?"
    I
wanted to hug him. "Yes. Later."
    As
much as I needed to explain things to Kaufmann, to take care of his hand, we
didn't have time. At worst, more of the people who were after me waited outside
the lobby door. At best, the police would be looking to arrest whoever took out
the SUV driver and caused it to hurtle six floors to the pavement below.
Dealing with the bad guys was uncomplicated. They were trying to