The Deserter - Nelson DeMille Page 0,209

Taylor step out of the trees in a two-hand firing stance. “Drop it!”

Mercer was doing the math—spin, aim, fire.

Brodie thought he was going to go for it, or at least fail to comply, but Mercer knew that the CID lady meant business, as they say, and Mercer threatening to kill Brodie would not lead to a standoff—it would lead to a bullet in his head.

Brodie stood and encouraged him, “Drop it, Kyle. It’s over.”

Mercer let the gun fall from his hand.

Taylor went into cop mode. “Down! Down! Face down!”

Mercer dropped to his knees and lay face down in the mud.

Brodie quickly snatched Mercer’s gun, backed off, and pointed the big Desert Eagle at him, saying to Taylor, “He’s covered.”

She stuck the Glock in the back of her waistband, then unwrapped the line that she’d taken from the boat and crouched beside Mercer, tying his hands behind his back. She remembered to say, “You’re under arrest.”

Brodie said, “Leave his legs free to travel.”

Taylor stood and shouted to Mercer, “Roll and stand!”

Mercer rolled on his back and sat up. Taylor and Brodie arm-locked him and got him to his feet.

Brodie pulled on his wet T-shirt while Taylor frisked the prisoner, finding only the knife and a wet handkerchief.

Brodie asked Taylor, “You get the sat phone?”

Taylor patted her pocket. “It was lying on the deck.”

“Okay. We’re in business. Except we have to relocate. His men could be coming to see what the shooting is all about.”

She nodded and glanced at the tree line, then down the shore at the fishing platform. She took the walkie off her T-shirt and scanned the channels.

Mercer spoke for the first time. “When they get here, I advise you both to put a bullet in your heads. That’s what I should have done to save myself from two years of torture, starvation, and rape.”

Brodie glanced at Taylor, who looked more angry than frightened. She said to Mercer, “Shut up unless I ask you a question.”

She was in total cop mode, noted Brodie, but this wasn’t a drug bust back in the States. This was a snatch job on Mercer’s home turf. Time to move.

Taylor told Mercer to get back on his face, then motioned to Brodie, and they walked out of earshot of Mercer. She said, “Escape and evasion is your department.”

“Okay, what do you hear on the walkie?”

“Hard to follow… a few guys are asking where is Señor Kyle. I guess they’re waiting for him in the mess hall.”

“What’s for lunch?”

“Us. If they find we’re missing.” She added, “I heard someone ask about Emilio again. And about another guy, David, who may be the guy you shot.”

“Right. David is floating past Kavak by now.” Brodie also thought about the Pemón woman and hoped she didn’t have lunch duty today.

“Scott?”

“Well… this bastard is not going to come along willingly. He’s waiting for his posse to arrive, and he’s an anvil around our necks.”

Taylor glanced at Mercer, still lying face down. “What are you saying, Scott?”

“I’ll do it.”

“We can’t do that. I won’t let you do that.”

“We discussed killing him.”

“Only if he presented a danger to us. You know the rules.”

“Maggie… we have three choices—try to take him with us, leave him here alive, or leave him here dead. The first choice could leave us here dead.”

“I understand that. But he is our prisoner, and you have to forget what he’s done and remember what was done to him. He served honorably until he didn’t. We are not his judge, jury, and executioner.”

“He would be ours if the situation was reversed.”

“Doesn’t matter what he’d do. It matters what we do.”

“He cut Ted Haggerty’s throat, for God’s sake. And he tortured and killed Robert Crenshaw, and dismembered one of his guys who raped Carmen. And he’s done a lot more that we don’t know about.” He reminded her, “Your friends in the CIA want him dead. Do Trent a favor, and do yourself a favor. Do Worley and everyone a favor—including Kyle Mercer.”

“Are you stooping to the level of Trent and Worley?”

“Just for today.”

“When you cross that line, Scott, you can never go back. Ask me about that.”

“Okay… but I can’t let him go, so… we’ll take him with us.”

“That’s the only right thing.”

“Tell me that when his posse is on our tail and he’s dragging his ass and calling out to them.”

“I know how to handle a prisoner.”

“Good. Start with a swift kick to his nuts. You usually get compliance.”

“I’m in charge of the prisoner. You’re in charge of

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