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?
Roman cracked that big neck of his, rolling it around. He took the badge on the chain around his neck and slipped it beneath his T-shirt. His eyes shone. “Fuck no, not over her. This is for Zam, your wife. I’ve been fucking her for months now, amigo. She needed a real man. You should have treated her better. I’m gonna marry her and raise up them two boys of yours like my own. Your family, the unit, everything, is gonna all be mine by this time tomorrow. Before long, Chuy is going to ask me to start calling him Dad, after they find you out here and everyone knows what you did.”
Johnnie spit, wiped his mouth. He needed a matchstick to chew, something to ground him. Something to set this motherfucker and the whole world on fire. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and never would have bet on Roman making this sort of move. He never would have bet on himself going out this way.
He was goddamn Johnnie Macho.
He stared Roman down. “What we did, motherfucker. We were friends. We’ve known each other our whole lives.”
“Exactamente, our whole lives, and you’ve been a prick from day one. I’m done cleaning up your shit and wiping your ass, Johnnie. Adios, amigo.”
Roman raised the rifle for the kill shot and Johnnie got ready to die.
—
AND THAT’S WHEN THE HELICOPTER APPEARED, dropping out of the dusk and strafing the house . . .
It looked huge, with its giant rotors carving the sky and men hanging out of the open bay doors, shooting at the ground below.
Shooting at him.
But as it passed overhead, Johnnie realized Roman was gone.
EIGHTY-ONE
Joe Garrison hadn’t run in a long time, but the second the chopper touched earth, bouncing up and down on its struts with its rotors still turning, he followed the FAST guys out the bay door.
He lurched into the heavy wind churned up by the blades, a mess of blowing rocks and dirt and trailing smoke. He bent low, feeling the tightness of his soft vest around his gut. He had his old Winchester shotgun at low-ready, and his badge was clipped up high on the front of his vest.
The last time he’d worn it that way he’d been a young, gung-ho agent in St. Louis. Before Junior Worrell had shot him, and he’d killed Junior.
Garrison and FAST split into two teams, half of them sprinting to clear the wreckage of the van, the rest rushing to where Chris Cherry and the others were spread out on the ground. Danny Ford was running with them, calling out to America Reynosa, who’d clearly been shot, and for one moment Garrison was right next to him, before the deputy pulled too far ahead.