But he’d know the results one way or the other soon enough. For now, the best way for him to help was to do what usually came so easily to him, which was to stay relaxed. He watched the clearing through the scope, breathed in deeply, and slowly let it out. Breathed in deeply again—
“Get back!” he heard Rispel yell in the earpiece. “Get back or I’ll blow his brains out!”
That rattled him. But he finished slowly letting out the breath.
The good news was, people didn’t grab hostages unless they were desperate. And if Rispel was feeling desperate, on balance things must have gone poorly for her and her men.
The bad news, though, was that desperate people did desperate things. And given that Dox was pretty sure Rispel had just shot the director of National Intelligence, he had to admit that she had done a fine job of establishing her desperation credentials.
He had a feeling who she’d grabbed, too. And didn’t like it at all.
Manus appeared in the clearing, backing up, aiming a suppressed machine pistol toward the trees.
Dash, Dox thought. I knew it.
“Get out of my way!” Rispel screamed. “I’ll kill him! You know I will!”
Dox couldn’t see her. But Manus’s position and orientation must have meant she was trying to come this way. Maybe for a pickup by the Mountain Home entrance.
Manus sighted down the barrel of the gun.
Don’t, Dox thought. Manus, don’t. You need a brain stem shot or her trigger finger could twitch involuntarily. A rifle shot will cause more instant damage. And you don’t know that gun. You’re too invested. Just let her come this way. Trust me. Trust me.
“Last chance!” Rispel screamed. “Get out of my way!”
Manus’s nostrils were flared, his face a mask of hate. He tensed to take the shot—
No, no, no—
And then Manus’s arms shook, and he lowered the gun slightly. He grimaced and started to move away, seeming almost to have to drag his legs to get them to obey.
That’s right. Good man. I got this . . .
Evie screamed, “Let him go, you bitch!”
Come on, Rispel. You sore loser. You cheat. Come and get what you’ve got coming.
And then there she was. Rispel. She was holding Dash close, a pistol pressed to the side of his face, and jerking him from side to side, doing what she could to deny Manus and the people behind her a shot. They all must have had guns pointed at her.
Evie appeared at the edge of the trees, her expression terrified. Manus looked desperate. Dox didn’t know how much longer the man could hold back.
Rispel spun Dash left, then right. Maybe she wasn’t afraid of just Manus and the gang. Maybe she was wondering about Dox again, and whether she was heading into his crosshairs.
Ten feet beyond her was another stand of trees. He wasn’t going to have a surer shot than this. But damn it, it wasn’t sure enough. Still, he would have to risk the shot, or risk losing her entirely.
He focused on Rispel’s ear, but she jerked away. The base of her skull. Dox breathed out and started to ease back the trigger. Rispel spun and suddenly Dash was in the way.
And then Dash must have had enough of being whipped around like a rag doll. Because he lowered his head and clamped his mouth onto Rispel’s forearm. She was wearing a jacket, but it looked like Dash got something good between his teeth because Rispel howled and jerked her arm free. Dash slipped down a few inches. The muzzle of Rispel’s gun was off his face.
Dox fired. The top of Rispel’s head erupted in a cloud of brains and blood. Not the brain stem shot Dox had been hoping for, but with the gun off Dash, good enough for government work. In any event, Rispel didn’t get off a shot, involuntarily or otherwise. She half fell, half slid to the ground. Dash turned, and though Dox couldn’t be sure, he could swear the boy actually said something to her.