Blindside (Michael Bennett #12)(56)

Christoph held Natalie’s wrists like she was an insect and he was about to dismember her. She knew she’d made a mistake. She started to whimper. Her glasses slipped off, and one of the lenses popped out with a clatter as they hit the concrete floor.

I had to do something. I couldn’t just watch Natalie be murdered.

Christoph was focused. On her. This might be the best chance I got. I wasted no time as I stepped a little to my left and used my right leg to kick the big man in his thigh. I was aiming for the common peroneal nerve. It’s tricky to target. But if you connect just right, it can crumple your opponent.

The nice thing about the nerve that runs from the hip past the knee along the back of the leg is that if you miss, the kick still hurts. And I had missed. I didn’t know by how much, but it hadn’t been a direct hit on the common peroneal. Instead, my heel had ground into his muscles and compressed the nerves against his femur, which had a similar effect.

Instead of crumpling him, I managed to send him reeling. He lost his balance and dropped Natalie, reaching for his injured leg as he let out a yowl like an injured cat.

That’s when I threw my whole body into him. He was already off balance, so even with my hands fastened behind my back, I was able to lower my shoulder and really plow into him like he was a tackling dummy. I assumed he didn’t have the benefit of regularly watching the NFL.

Christoph slammed against the edge of the archway. His face made a sickening sound as it hit the rough concrete. When he staggered back and I could see his face, I realized it had been a good blow. Blood poured out of his nose like some kind of emergency ballast release.

Then his knees gave out and he sat down hard, then rolled onto his side. He was done. At least for now. Blood still poured out of his ruined nose.

Natalie stood staring at me, stunned.

I said, “Natalie. Listen to me. He has a knife in the waistline of his trousers. See it?”

He wasn’t dead. I could feel him breathing. We had maybe a minute at most.

When she didn’t move or acknowledge me, I shouted, “Natalie, snap out of it.” Then my message sank in. She inched closer to Christoph’s inert form, paused, then quickly crouched and with both hands jerked the knife clumsily out of its belt-line sheath. After she backed away from him again, she let out a deep, uneven breath.

I turned around and pulled my arms as far apart as I could so the cord would be taut for her. I felt her sawing on it, and my arms burst free in no time. I wiggled my stiff fingers, trying to get blood back into my hands.

I spun and checked Christoph. He was starting to move. I patted him down roughly. His pistol wasn’t on him. Damn.

I turned and gently took the Gerber from Natalie’s trembling hands. Not my weapon of choice. I tossed it to the floor before I was tempted to take it with us. Then I said to Natalie, “Where’s his partner?”

“He went to get their car. He’s probably already outside this door, waiting.” She tilted her head toward the loading dock’s roll-up door. She had regained some of her composure.

I said, “Now you have to come with me.”

She nodded. “I know. Once I realized they really were going to kill you, I couldn’t just sit back.”

“Me and my whole family are glad you came to your senses. Now we gotta get out of here.”

“But where? Henry knows people all over the city. And I’m not sure if he owns any police. I don’t know who we can trust.”

I said, “I do.”





CHAPTER 79





CHRISTOPH PANICKED FOR a moment when he snapped out of the pain-induced blackout. His eyes wouldn’t focus. He wasn’t even certain where he was or what had happened. Then it came back to him in a rush. He didn’t think he’d been unconscious for long, but it was still going to take some time to get going. Then the lightbulb in the middle of the ceiling above the loading dock came into focus.

He blinked a couple of times as he lay on his back, assessing his injuries. His head throbbed like the bass from “Smoke on the Water.” Then he moved his leg and it hurt so badly he forgot about his head.

He rose onto his hands and knees, and thought he might be sick. The splash of blood on the floor made him lift his fingers to his face. Blood was still trickling out of his nose. His beautiful, straight nose. Which was now broken. Badly. It was so flat, it felt like he just had two holes in the middle of his face.

He was startled when a new sound ripped through his brain. He was worried he might be having a seizure. Then he realized it was Ollie knocking on the steel loading dock door.

Slowly, he managed to make it to his feet. He felt his face again and thought, That son of a bitch really clobbered me. And Natalie had been part of it. The pounding resumed in his head.

Christoph stumbled over to the wall where the control for the door was at chest level. He had to lean against the wall and focus just to hit the right button. Then he heard the slow pulse of the motor pulling up the door. The rattle of the steel felt like someone running their fingernails over a chalkboard.

As the door rose at its glacial pace, Christoph tried to wipe the blood from his face. Now he noticed his eye was tender. His nose, his eye, his leg. That cop was going to suffer. So was Natalie. He needed his knife. He spotted it on the floor.

The door was finally up and the gray Volkswagen Passat sat puttering beside the loading bay.