The Escape (John Puller, #3)(44)

“Let’s call it an aggressive call for a meeting.”

“With three guns pointed at me, I guess you can call it what you want.”

“You’re investigating Robert Puller’s escape from prison. You hope to bring him back, alive rather than dead.”

Puller kept his mouth shut.

“I want to know what you’ve found out so far. Do you know where he is?”

“No.”

“Do you have any promising leads?”

“I must have missed the part ordering me to report to some voice.”

“It would be in all of our best interests if you were to cooperate.”

“Not how it works in my world. I’m a soldier. I have chains of command. I don’t step outside them.”

“So you won’t share your investigation results?”

“You’ll have to take that up with the United States Army.”

“You hope to bring your brother in alive. I tell you that this is not possible.”

“Why?”

“This is not possible,” repeated the voice. “If you won’t cooperate then I am asking you to stand down.”

“I was ordered to investigate. I follow orders.”

“There are many outs for you on that score,” said the voice. “The command for you to participate in this investigation runs against every protocol the military has. You should not be part of this. You will ask to stand down on those reasons. Your objectivity has been compromised, and understandably so. It’s your brother, after all. The United States Army is many things, Puller. But it is not unreasonable.”

“And you would know this how?”

“Stand down, Agent Puller. That’s all you have to do.”

“The investigation will continue regardless of whether I’m part of it.”

“That is not your concern. Will you stand down?”

“No.”

“I will ask again. Will you stand down?”

Puller said nothing, because he had nothing else to add to what he’d already said.

“I can only add as an inducement that this is far bigger than a mere prisoner escaping from custody.”

“Care to explain that?”

“To answer that would require disclosures that I am not prepared to make. Suffice it to say, you have my word that I am a patriot. The good of the country is firmly in my mind for whatever actions have been taken in the past or will be taken in the future.”

“You didn’t say what country. I doubt it’s mine.”

“You were described to me as stubborn, and tough and honorable. Those are all ideal attributes for those in uniform. But this, I’m afraid, is the exception that disproves that rule. Once more, will you stand down?”

“No.”

“Then I’m afraid it’s out of my hands.”

“Now you’re threatening me?”

“If only it were a threat, Agent Puller. Now, I’m afraid, it is a fact.”

The voice cut off and the quiet returned.

And then he heard feet moving closer. And the rack on a weapon being slid back. Puller immediately tensed, his quads and calves bracing for what was to come.

The blindfold was taken off and he blinked quickly to adjust to the brightness provided by the overhead light.

A moment later Puller felt a gun muzzle placed against the side of his head.

And then the shots shattered the window and blew out the light.

Puller and the other man froze and then the man with the gun turned toward the window from where the shots had come. That was the only opening Puller needed.

He sprang sideways, thrusting his shoulder into the chest of the man holding the weapon. Bone, muscle, and cartilage met the same. Puller was the bigger man, with a forty-pound advantage on the other. They both flew backward in the direction from which Puller had attacked.

As Puller had hit the other man with his shoulder he’d locked one of his legs around the man’s thigh and the other around his upper calf. Now he ripped the thigh one way and the lower leg the other and listened to the man scream as vital parts of his knee went helter-skelter. He and the now disabled man hit the floor and their momentum propelled them along the smooth boards. The other man crashed headfirst into the far wall and was knocked out by the impact.

Puller’s hands were still tied behind his back. Very flexible for a big man, he turned the slide into a roll and slipped his bound hands under his legs so they were in front of him. He grabbed the toppled chair, swung it around, and crushed the piece of furniture into the chest of the second man who had just rushed into the darkened room. The man had managed to get two errant shots off before he took the chair to the chest and hurtled in the opposite direction and then flipped over a table. He lay there panting and moaning with pain.

Puller knelt next to the first man, searched his pockets, and found both his M11 and his cell phone. He snatched up the chair once more and flung it through the window. A second later he sailed through the shattered glass and landed outside. He was on his feet in an instant, looked in front of him, and then chose a path in under three seconds. When in doubt with people trying to kill you there was no perfect answer. There was only action.

He sprinted off in that direction and quickly reached a curve in the road that would put him out of the sightline of the house.