Roses Are Red

Chapter Eighty-Si

XI ran with my head down, right through a barrier of thick bushes that scraped and cut my arms until there was blood. Brian Macdougall hadn't gotten very far into the yard next door.

I raced for a dozen steps after him, and then I tackled him. I aimed my right shoulder at the back of his knees. I wanted to hurt Macdougall if I possibly could.

He went down hard but he was as loaded up with adrenaline as I was. He rolled and twisted out of my arms. He popped up fast and so did I," You should have stayed down," I told him," You're not supposed to make mistakes. Getting up was a mistake."

I hit Macdougall with a hard, straight overhand right. It felt very good. His head snapped back about six inches.

I bobbed a little. Macdougall threw a wild hook that missed me completely. I hit him again. His knees buckled but he didn't go down. He was a tough street cop.

"I'm impressed,” I told him, taunted him. "You still should have stayed down, though."

"Alex!" I heard Betsey yell as she entered the yard.

Macdougall threw a pretty good punch, but he telegraphed it a little. It glanced off the side of my forehead. I could have taken the punch if it had connected. "That's better," I told him. "Get the weight off your heels, Brian."

Alex! "Betsey called again," Take him down, goddammit! Now!"

I wanted the physical contact with Macdougall, the release, just another minute in the ring. I felt I'd earned it and he deserved whatever got doled out here. He threw another looping punch, but I sidestepped the hit. He was already tired.

"You're not beating up on your wife or your little girl now," I said," You're dealing with somebody your own size. I fight back, Macdougall."

"Fuck you," he snarled but he was gasping for a breath. His face and neck were coated with sweat.

"Are you the man? Are you the Mastermind, Brian? You kill all those people?"

He didn't answer me, so I hit him hard in the stomach. He doubled up, his face tight with pain.

Betsey had come up to the two of us by now. So had a couple of other agents. They just watched; they understood what this was about. They wanted it to happen too.

"Balls of your feet." I gave Macdougall a fight tip. "You're still fighting back on your heels."

He mumbled something. I couldn't make it out. Didn't much care what he had to say. I hit him in the stomach again," See? Kill the body," I told him. "I teach my kids the same thing."

I threw another uppercut into his stomach. He wasn't flabby, and the punch felt good, like hitting a heavy bag. Then a sharp uppercut right on the tip of Macdougall's chin. He went down hard, face-first on the lawn. He stayed there. He was out.

I stood over him, panting a little, sweating some. "Brian Macdougall. I asked you a question. Are you the Mastermind?"