Then I get up, start walking again, wanting to see a dead Billy, and his dead comrades. I can see Billy going through with this, his deranged thoughts and fantasies, but whom did he convince to join him? Who would these men have been? And more importantly … do they have allies out there, waiting for—God forbid it—a third attack?

I get to the crumpled cabin of one of the Cessnas, and lean down, peering through the shattered windshield, at the crumpled seat and broken instrument panel, and—

There’s nobody there.

Nobody!

There are controls there, and a laptop computer, and a broken system of cables and pulleys, and it comes to me.

This wasn’t a suicide mission.

This was an out-and-out kill mission, using these Cessnas as huge, weapons-filled drones.

No wonder one of the hangars had a large radio antenna behind it.

That’s how they were controlled.

Angus, back when I had interrogated him at the bridge.

And they even got these smarty scientist types, smarter than you, cop, you can be sure.

This wasn’t a suicide mission, then.

Meaning …

I whip around, look to the two open hangars, and there—

Is the Audi, speeding away.

Escaping.

Billy getting away with it.

I could yell, scream, shout, but I instantly react with my cop instincts.

I throw myself to the petroleum-stained grass, pull out my pistol, start shooting.

Not like the movies or TV, with rapid-fire shots.

The odds are against me.

I force myself to relax, to focus, and most of all, to aim.

I fire one shot.

Another.

Another.

With each second the Audi is getting farther away from me, closer and closer to final escape, and I can’t let that happen.

It’s all up to me.

Another shot.

Another.

I lead the Audi, like a duck hunter aiming ahead of his prey, and I keep on shooting, not aiming for the tires, or the gas tank, but for the windows.

I mean to kill the son of a bitch.

I shoot again.

Then …

The Audi slows down.

Sways back and forth, back and forth.

Slows some more.

I get up, shaking, legs quivering, my hammered chest feeling like the bones there are about to impale my heart and cause me to bleed out near the burning wreckage, and I don’t care.

I’m beyond caring.

I start my long walk to the still Audi.

Once again, a gamble has paid off for my beloved Big Easy, its people, and most of all, my Vanessa.

Vanessa.

It feels like half the morning has passed before I get to the car. The engine is still running but the windshield and side windows are pockmarked with bullet holes.

I tug the driver’s door open and Billy slides out.

It looks like one of my rounds got him in the shoulder.

There’s lots of blood on him, and the seat.

He tumbles to the ground.

His eyes open.