Private Dublin

Chapter 93

“Don’t move,” said Chalmont. “Did you really think you could walk away from what you’ve done?” he asked, stepping closer. “Did you think you could simply resume your old life after crossing my path, Mr. Morgan?”

I didn’t answer but instead kept my eyes focused on the gun, preparing for the shot I was certain would come. I hadn’t been expecting to be the one staring down the barrel of a gun, and looked longingly across the room at the spot where my own pistol had fallen.

“You have wounded our organization, but for as long as I’m free it will never die. Lawrence designated me his successor. I know where our money is hidden, who our members are all around the world,” Chalmont told me. “Under my leadership we will regroup and return stronger than ever.”

“You will face justice for your past crimes and for what’s happened tonight,” I replied. “You will rot in prison.”

He smiled. “You mean your surveillance system? My people and I will raze to the ground this house, your video footage, and the panic room where you have stashed your girlfriend.” He paused to let his words sink in. “Yes, I know about that, Mr. Morgan.”

I glared at him but said nothing.

“I want you to understand the pain I’m going to inflict on everyone you care about. I want you to consider that before you die.”

Then I heard the sound I’d been dreading: locks opening upstairs and the noise of the concealed panel retracting.

“She doesn’t want to sit in that little coffin and watch you die,” Raymond said. “It seems she is eager to join you.”

I heard Justine’s footsteps upstairs as she crossed the landing. She must have been watching the exchange on the house surveillance system and known there was no point staying hidden because Chalmont was aware of her location.

I couldn’t risk him hurting Justine so I lunged for him. The suddenness of my movement startled him and we wrestled for control of his machine pistol.

He kicked me and I swung for him but missed. As he stepped back and ducked, he snatched the pistol away from me.

We stood there for a moment, me glaring at him from the wrong end of the barrel of his gun. I saw his finger tighten around the trigger and knew my end had come.

“Jack!” Justine cried, and I turned to see her enter the room with my gun raised in our direction.

She didn’t hesitate, but shot him once in the leg and a second time in his side.