Every Second

51

Somewhere in New York State

When the shooting ceased, Cutty rushed down the slope, surfing on the gravelly dirt, hopping over rocks toward Fulton’s body splayed at the bottom of the cliff.

Motionless.

Vic had ordered Cutty to verify Fulton’s condition.

Cutty bent over him for closer inspection. His blood-soaked clothes were ripped and torn. His bullet-ridden arms and legs were twisted into impossible angles. His face was a bloodied, pulpy mass. Cutty gave him a hard kick, listening for a groan, watching for movement.

Nothing.

“He’s dead!” Cutty called up to the others, quickly covering the body with large branches and undergrowth. “The animals are going to feast on you. Too bad you won’t live to see what we’re going to do to your bitch wife in front of your kid, you greedy banker nonbeliever asshole, one-percenter prick!”

Cutty touched the back of his hand to his throbbing face, assessing his own wounds as he climbed back up, cursing Lori Fulton.

“That bitch is dead!”

Above him, Percy and Vic had collected the two lost rifles and were inspecting them for any damage when the sound of new gunfire erupted around them.

Percy and Vic turned to the cabin to see Jerricko was behind it, firing into the woods.

“She got away with the kid! Let’s go!” Vic shouldered his weapon, then tossed the bag he held to Percy. “Carry the money. Come on!”

Behind the cabin, all four unleashed sustained gunfire into the dark woods before Vic ordered them to regroup inside.

Breathing hard, cursing and gulping water, they assessed their situation. Jerricko was searching the cabin and the area near the beds.

“How the hell did this happen?” Percy said.

“Forget the how. What do we do now?” Cutty said.

“I say detonate the bombs,” Percy said. “Blow the mothers up, end of story.”

“Cell phones don’t work up here,” Cutty said. “We can’t send the signal.”

“That satellite phone works. Use it to call the numbers and boom,” Percy reminded them.

Vic pulled the satellite phone from his pocket, looked at it then looked at his crew while weighing the call.

“Don’t do it!” Jerricko said. “She’s got my bag-and our laptop with everything on it! Everything! You blow her up, you blow up everything we’ve been working for! We have to get it back!”

They all looked to Vic, waiting for him to decide their next move.

He put the phone away.

“We’re done here. The gunfire is going to bring hikers or police this way. We’re not blowing anything up. We need that laptop. The police found both cars-we heard it on the news on the way up. They’re getting closer, but we have time. We’ll go after her and the kid.”

“Yes!” Cutty said.

“Divide the money into other bags, so it’s easier to carry,” Vic said. “Get what gear you need-fast!”

Percy went to the duffel bags by the beds where there was more ammunition and food.

“It’s dark. She’s a woman, handcuffed, dragging a kid and she’s unarmed in a dense forest. There are four of us. We have automatic guns, plenty of ammo and equipment. We know these woods. We’ll hunt her down, recover our laptop, salvage our operation and carry out our plans to the glorious end. Agreed?”

“Agreed!” the others said.

“Allah is the Greatest!” Vic shouted.

“Allah is the Greatest!” the others repeated.