Roach’s eyes followed my movements, which was exactly what I wanted.
Next I removed my vest, careful to lay it on the floor beside the rifle without blocking my access in case an opportunity arose for me to grab it. Finally, I carefully drew my pistol from its thigh holster, bending slightly to place it on top of the vest. Completely disarmed except for a couple of blades, I straightened, glad to note that Zemeck had opened up a few more feet while I was distracting Roach.
“Now I’m unarmed. I can’t hurt you. Just walk away. No one will come after you. No one will be hunting you. I don’t care. I just want to get my wife to a doctor.”
I took a slow half step so that I was standing directly over the pistol. It was slightly above floor level, resting on my vest, and I knew I could get to it fast. When I’d pulled it out of the holster I’d clicked the safety off. There was already a round in the chamber and the hammer was cocked. All I had to do was drop, grab it, aim and pull the trigger. Sounds easy, and it is if there’s not a psycho staring at you over the sights of a machine pistol.
Roach’s eyes flicked down to my weapons, then back up to my face. He was sweating but seemed to be bringing himself under control. For a brief moment I actually thought he might turn and run, but he smiled a frightening smile.
“I’ve wanted to do this since the first time we met.” He said and pulled the trigger.
I’ve always heard the expression ‘my life flashed before my eyes’, but had never experienced it until that moment. My mind sped up and a whole series of memories played out in a fraction of a second. Going quail hunting with my dad. My first beer. My first car accident. The death of every teammate I’d ever lost. The first time I ever saw Katie. Katie lying in our bed, smiling up at me.
Then the Uzi’s hammer clicked, loud in the quiet room. I stood there waiting for the bullet that would be racing down the weapon’s barrel, starting its spin as the rifling caused it to twist as it approached the muzzle. Then the flame from the burning gun powder that escaped just ahead of the projectile that would cross the thirty feet of open space in far less time than it would take me to blink. The impact of the round wouldn’t hurt at first, pain coming later, or maybe not at all if it struck my head and tore through my brain.
But none of that happened. There was just the click when Roach pulled the trigger, then nothing. I stood there for a heartbeat, my mind at first not understanding why I was still alive. He was out of ammo, or the round in the chamber had failed to fire, or the weapon had malfunctioned. I processed all of these thoughts in an instant, then my body kicked in and I dove for the pistol.
Roach’s reaction was faster than I expected as he dropped the Uzi, turned to slam through the door and run up the stairs to the roof. The door was already closing by the time I had the pistol up and even though I didn’t have a clear target I put several rounds into the stairwell hoping for a lucky shot.
Running forward I blasted through the door in time to see Roach disappear through the opening onto the roof. Charging up after him I couldn’t tell if there was any blood on the red carpet so I had no idea if he was wounded or not. Not slowing at the top, I stumbled onto the roof and barely had time to register the attack coming from my right side before a vent pipe smashed into my right arm, knocking the pistol out of my grip to skid several feet away.
Roach lunged for the weapon, falling on it. I was on his back before he could pick it up, pinning his arms and rolling us away. He flailed and kicked as we rolled, his strength fueled by madness and panic and I was surprised when he was able to tear an arm free and reach for the pistol.
I still had one of his arms locked back and when he tried for the weapon I brought the heel of my free hand forward and snapped his elbow.