Private Dublin

Chapter 80

The van flipped and tumbled. I was tossed around the cab as metal crashed and ground against hard asphalt. I banged my head against the front passenger seat but fought the pain and black edges to my vision. I leaned into the surging adrenalin that coursed through my veins, so that when the vehicle came to a grinding halt, I was alert and ready.

The van was on its roof, Sam Farrell dazed but conscious. The two men in the back were out cold, their bodies twisted in ways that spoke of broken bones and hospital beds.

I popped Sam’s seatbelt. When he fell out of his seat, I leaned over him and opened the driver’s door. I pushed him out of the cab and found a pistol in his waistband as I hauled him to his feet. He could stand but wasn’t lucid, mumbling incoherently.

I held him in front of me as Andi and Chalmont stepped from the Mercedes, which had stopped a short distance away. They walked into the dazzling headlights and became silhouettes. The glare made it difficult to look at them for long periods of time.

“Let him go,” Andi said. “And put the gun down.”

“Give me your keys,” I countered. “And I’ll let him go.”

“You think you can escape again, Mr. Morgan?” Chalmont asked.

“Give me the keys to the Mercedes,” I yelled.

I alternated between pointing the gun at Sam’s head and aiming it in their direction.

“That’s not going to happen, Mr. Morgan,” Chalmont said. “You destroyed my life. Ruined me.” His voice was jagged with anger. “There is no escape for you. You will die here tonight, Jack Morgan.”

The sound of the gunshot startled me, and I felt the bullet hit Sam Farrell in the chest. He groaned and went heavy. Then came the second and third shots, cutting the stillness of the night like thundercracks.

Andi cried out as the fourth shot hit Sam in the gut and he slumped forward, dead.

I couldn’t hold him up. His body fell onto the road.

Raymond Chalmont stepped out of the blinding light, his gun raised and aimed at my head. Behind him, I heard Andi start to sob.

“Nothing will save you, Mr. Morgan,” he said. “Nothing.”