Page 101 of Fish in a Barrel
“Billy’s taking classes today,” Kryzynski said, face pinched. “I texted him to follow the other students out and told him I’d be waiting for him here. I-I don’t know how to worry about him, you know?”
Ellery nodded. “I know,” he said, watching as Fetzer, Hardison, Christie, and de Souza disappeared into an exit at the opposite end of the stadium from the end Jackson had just gone toward. He studied the mental schematic of everybody’s location, and he found he couldn’t catch his breath either.
“He… he….” A kaleidoscope of images hit him: Jackson, the first time they’d made love, fierce, angry, determined to only have sex and stunned when Ellery wouldn’t allow that to happen. Jackson, a year ago, feverish and despondent, sleeping off a night of a thousand horrors in their bed while planning to leave Ellery to simply curl up in a ball and die. Jackson, making tentative strides with Ellery’s family, every interaction bonding him closer to Ellery’s mother and father, making him their own. Jackson at Christmas, giving him shooting lessons so he could protect himself. Jackson, doing everything from baring his soul to help other people to saving Ellery from trained assassins to… oh God. Cuddling his mannerless street cat and promising him ear rubs while calling him vile names.
Jackson, running off to offer himself as bait because he didn’t want anybody to die.
“Ellery?” Kryzynski said gently.
“Yes?”
“Go after him.”
Ellery was charging down the blacktop—his hard-soled leather shoes sliding on sand or gravel over the pavement, his trench coat flapping behind him—before he could even question the logic.
A sniper had almost taken Jackson away from him before they’d even met. He’d gone on a basic fact-finding mission not five days earlier and had almost been gutted by a dirty cop with an illegal knife. Ellery wasn’t going to give fate yet another chance to take him away, unseen and unsung, while the rest of the world watched but couldn’t help.
He made it to where he’d seen Jackson disappear and took a few more steps before he found the thruway. It was a back entrance, he thought, for employees or athletes—hard to spot, easy to guard, easy to give private pass holders a way in. In off-hours, when the facility was open to the school and public use, it would make a handy little shortcut, and Ellery ventured through the darkness now, heading for the light on the other side.
JACKSON CAMEout of the tunnel and stood in the entrance, scanning the track for a moment to see if Goslar was even there. He spotted the man sitting on one of the benches in front of the bleachers, where the football players would sit during the game. Goslar wore a SAPD sweatshirt with the arms and neck torn off, and a pair of running shorts, both items soaked with sweat as he shoved his cleats into a bag and put on regular tennis shoes.
Jackson ran up to him, putting his body between Goslar and the announcer’s box on the other side of the track.
Goslar scowled at him with unfriendly eyes, and Jackson contemplated throwing himself on the ground and giving Myron Adler a clean shot, but he couldn’t.
He just couldn’t.
“The fuck do you want?” Goslar snarled, and Jackson grimly kept his temper.
“I’m here to save you from the same sniper who took out Boehner,” Jackson said, keeping his voice low and pleasant. He was unprepared for Goslar to stand up, all six feet five inches of him, and shove rudely past Jackson on his way toward the opposite end of the field.
“Bullshit,” he snapped. “You people and your tricks. It’s all about getting me to confess, isn’t it! Well, you’ll have to work a lot harder than that!”
“I don’t have to work hard at all!” Jackson retorted, his temper slipping. “We’ve got Cartman in custody. How long before he snaps! How long before we find dirt on him, put pressure on him, and the whole story hits the shit-covered fan?”
Goslar whirled on him, taking ground-eating strides until they were chest to chest. “I was following orders, you little puke—”
“Were you following orders when you were about to decapitate Cody Gabriel?” Jackson shouted back. “Were you following orders when you kicked an old man who just wanted his fucking dog? You’re a sadistic bastard, and you’ve earned everything coming to you, and I’m still here trying to save your fucking ass becausesomebody’sgot to do the right thing, and it’s certainly not you!”
“Oh, who gives a shit about the right thing!” Goslar kept advancing on him, and Jackson kept retreating, hopefully back toward the tunnel. If he couldlureGoslar there with his anger, they could get one variable out of the way while Henry took out Myron Adler. “You don’t care about that. All you ever cared about was winning the case! We put ourliveson the line every fucking day, and what thanks do we get? Cody Gabriel was a trainwreck—”
“Cody Gabriel was yourbrother!” Jackson shouted, his voice breaking. “You talk about cops putting their lives on the line. He was yourbrother! And you blackmailed him and you pushed him and you pushed him too far—”
“He was weak!”
“He washuman! And you exploited that, and you almost broke him. Does that make you proud, Goslar? You almost broke him? Because breaking people comes back to bite you—and it’s about to now—oolf!”
Jackson’s body hit the hardpan of the track, pressed down by a lean, tightly muscled weight, just as the crack of the shot hit his ears.
ELLERY’S BREATHlabored in his chest, and Jackson let out a yelp underneath him as they crashed to the ground. Next to them, in front of the bleachers, the LED screen that lined the bottom front of the seats exploded into a fractured sizzle as the bullet hit home.
He’d known what Jackson was doing, of course, trying to lure Goslar back to the tunnel, but it was taking too long, and as Ellery watched, he realized that every step he took back was followed by a tiny red dot, flickering from Goslar’s side to Jackson’s, from Goslar’s to Jackson’s….
And Ellery couldn’t take that fucking chance.
With a clumsy leap and a tackle that would have been the laughingstock of every Pop Warner football team in the country, he shoved Jackson to the ground, flailing on top of him as he lost his balance.
And apparently Adler had taken his shot at the same time.