Trent fired. A round grazed her side, but she answered at the same time as she called out in pain, a return shot that sent him diving for cover, cursing his hesitancy. It was the rah-rah skirt, he thought. The fucking rah-rah skirt.

Chapter 55

CHAPTER 55

‘Christ, he had the drop on her,’ yelled Ross in the conference room. ‘Why the hell didn’t he just shoot her in the back of the head?’

He and Clifford were both standing, like football fans engrossed in a penalty shootout, watching as their two champions exchanged shots by the Acid Bath.

At the same time, Abbott took off towards the sound of gunshots, staying in the shadow of whatever attraction or structure was nearby, painfully aware that any sniper could at this very moment be drawing a bead on him.

And Scolar? Scolar, a mile away in his water tower, remained calm and steady, shifting the scope, trying to find the woman, needing to protect Yellow. Gunfire in the park was constant now, both firing from behind cover, each trying to keep the other pinned down, which meant that Scolar had a free hand to open fire himself.

His finger curled through the trigger guard. His breathing was steady.

Below was Abbott, running towards the gunfire. He saw the woman and recognised her as Heidi Kavanagh. Their paths had crossed briefly in Iraq. And didn’t she once have a thing with Monroe?

He emerged close to the Acid Bath. At the same time, Heidi saw the movement and swung her sidearm towards him, loosing off two rounds quickly, sending Abbott ducking into cover behind a row of ersatz gravestones.

He peeped out, saw Heidi, wounded. She’d realised that she was outnumbered and decided to make a move to regroup at a better defensive position.

‘Heidi,’ he called over to her, hoping that she’d hear him over the bark of Yellow’s Sig. ‘I’m not here to win,’ he tried, knowing it was a useless gambit. Even if he wasn’t here to win, then she was. And right now, she thought that the best way to do that was to get her ass to a better position.

She rose, coming out of cover and laying down a suppressing fire. Her mistake was to fire in the wrong direction, towards Abbott. But the threat wasn’t from Abbott, it was from Yellow.

‘No,’ called Abbott, rising from behind the gravestones, loosing off two rounds towards Yellow’s position. He saw Yellow. Christ, he recognised the guy as well. Name was Trent something. He fired back at Abbott’s position and Abbott ducked down as rounds smashed into the gravestone – but not before seeing the back of Heidi’s head blown out.

Her body fell, her rah-rah skirt fanned out around her. In the conference room, Clifford buried his head in his hands and sank back down to his seat. Beside him Monroe looked ashen.