Chapters (110)
- Cover
- ALSO BY J. TODD SCOTT
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- PROLOGUE
- I
- II
- PART ONE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- PART TWO
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- PART THREE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- PART FOUR
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- SEVENTY-FOUR
- SEVENTY-FIVE
- SEVENTY-SIX
- SEVENTY-SEVEN
- SEVENTY-EIGHT
- SEVENTY-NINE
- EIGHTY
- EIGHTY-ONE
- EIGHTY-TWO
- EIGHTY-THREE
- EIGHTY-FOUR
- EPILOGUE
- I
- II
- III
- IV
- V
- VI
- VII
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Excerpt from LOST RIVER
- LITTLE PARIS
- DILLON
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- What’s next onyour reading list?
Danny watched Eddy go down.
Blood exploded all over the front of his shirt, and he dropped face-first to the ground without even breaking his fall.
One second he was up and running, and then he wasn’t.
That’s when Danny realized that it was Deputy Johnnie Machado from Terrell County who’d just shot him.
The last time Danny had seen him was in a parking lot in Crockett.
Before Danny could sight the M110 on him, Johnnie Macho dropped down, too, out of sight. But the other shooters with him were still up and moving. Through the narrow view of the scope, he recognized some of them—other members of the Tejas unit—and they were armed and armored like they were about to swoop down on a drug raid, and maybe in a way they were. They were still focused on Fox Uno and the sheriff and Amé, and they had all three of them dead to rights.
He pushed the muzzle of the M110 out of one of his murder holes and took aim at one of them, a thin guy with a flattop. Danny remembered him from Crockett—he’d been the one who’d backed away from the confrontation in the parking lot. Ortiz? Something like that. Ortiz and most of the Tejas unit were wearing full tactical rigs, at least Level III with or without extra plates, which would normally have been enough to slow down the regular 7.62x51mm armor-piercing NATO rounds the M110 fired, except Danny had loaded his with the armor-piercing steel-core specials that West had bought him.
He put the reticle on Ortiz’s face. It was clear enough that Danny could see the sweat on the man’s skin and the fear in his eyes.
Ortiz, or whoever he was, wanted to be anywhere but here.
Danny didn’t blame him, and just before his own vision went black, he pulled the trigger and obliged him.
SEVENTY-THREE
FOUR SECONDS BEFORE . . .
Five things happened, more or less all at once.
First, Johnnie saw Eddy Rabbit go down. Since he was the one who’d just put a bullet in that motherfucker, that was to be expected. On pure instinct, Johnnie dropped down, too, since he’d exposed himself with that shot.
Then, quite clearly, Ortiz’s face came apart. A high-velocity round from somewhere drilled straight through the man’s skull, his brains and blood flying about ten feet into the air. Before Ortiz even hit the ground, another bullet went through his chest—right through his badge—and then a third tore his left arm in half. Some of Ortiz’s mess ended up on Chavez, who’d been taking aim on the old Mexican, and it threw him off enough that his first shot went way wide, and his second didn’t prove to be any better, since by then Sheriff Cherry was already pulling the old fucker out of the way.