Had there been time I would have checked on the girl, but there wasn’t. I was pretty sure the Uzi had cut through the counter and also through her. Terrible, but there was nothing I could do about that now except avenge her. There were still three killers in the diner and they would murder other innocent people if I didn’t do something about it.

I came over the counter supported on one hand, already shooting with the other. I hit one man in his shoulder and he dropped his machine gun. He turned toward me and I shot him again, this time in his chest. Two down, two to go.

The remaining killers were midway down the diner. Most of the uninjured customers had managed to get out of the way, but there were those who’d already been shot who either lay crying or were very quiet. I saw one of the killers shoot a young man who was trying to hide under a table. There was no reason for it. The other killer was blasting a circular table that had been tipped on its end. It looked like a waste of bullets, because, other than pocking the heavy Formica they weren’t getting through. I caught a glimpse of movement behind the table, a dark hand holding a Glock. Then I saw Harvey lean all the way out and fire off a close-knit grouping of shots at the killer. Two of the bullets struck the man, one in the gut, one in his right thigh. It didn’t kill him outright, but it was enough to stop him shooting for a moment. Rink jumped up from the other side of the table and he fired and this time the man did go down. Half his brain now decorated the ceiling.

While all this was happening, I wasn’t standing idle. I was already running at the final man—the one who’d killed the man under the table in cold blood. I should’ve just shot the bastard, but I preferred that he hurt before he died. Plus, I wanted answers.

Who were these bastards, and why had they come after me? What connection had they to Rickard and the person guiding him? Had they been sent by Wetherby?

Rink and Harvey held their fire. The man probably heard me coming, because he turned my way, bringing around the Uzi.

I kicked the gun away and smacked the butt of my SIG directly in the center of his chest. The man was slightly shorter than me, lighter in build, and I was able to force him backward with the pressure of my gun against his sternum. He checked against a partition that was smeared by someone else’s blood and the first thing he did was drop the Uzi and swing his bunched fist at my head. He was a player, for certain.