Текст книги "The Simple Truth"

Автор книги: David Baldacci

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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

Youre aware of theFeresDoctrine, Mr. Barr? Ramsey asked, referring to the 1950 Supreme Court opinion first granting immunity from lawsuits to the military. Barr smiled. Unfortunately, yes.

Arent you asking us to overturn fifty years of Court precedent? Ramsey looked up and down the bench as he said this. How can we decide this case in favor of your client without turning the military and this Court on their heads?

Knight did not let Barr answer. The Court did not allow that argument to dissuade it from overturning the segregated school system in this country. If the cause is right, the means are justified, and precedent cannot stand in the way of that.

Please answer my question, Mr. Barr, Ramsey persisted.

I think this case is distinguishable.

Really? There is no question that Barbara Chance and her male superiors were in uniform, on government property and performing their official duties when the sexual episodes occurred?

I would hardly call coerced sex, official duties. But nonetheless, the fact that her superior used his rank to coerce her into what amounted to a rape, and

And, Knight cut in, seemingly unable to remain quiet, the superior officers at the base in question and the regional command were aware these events had taken place had been advised in writing of them, even and had taken no action to even investigate the matter other than in a cursory fashion. It was Barbara Chance who called in the local police. They undertook an investigation which resulted in the truth coming to light. That truth clearly establishes a cause of action that would result in damages with respect to any other organization in this country.

Fiske stared from Ramsey to Knight. It was suddenly as though, instead of nine justices, there were only two. In Fiskes mind, the courtroom had been transformed into a boxing ring, with Ramsey the champ and Knight the talented contender, but still an underdog.

Were talking about the military here, Mr. Barr, Ramsey said, but he looked at Knight. This Court has ruled that the military issui generis.That is the precedent you face. Your case deals with chain-of-command issues. An inferior personnel to her superior. That is just the issue that this Court has several times in the past addressed and unequivocally decided that it would not intrude upon the militarys presumptive immunity. That was the law yesterday, and it is the law today. Which gets me back to my original statement. For us to hold for your client, this court must reverse its position on a long and deeply followed line of precedents. That is what you are asking us to do.

And as I mentioned earlier,stare decisisis clearly not infallible, Knight said, referring to the Courts practice of adhering to and upholding its previous decisions. Back and forth Knight and Ramsey went at it. For every salvo fired by one, there was an answer fired by the other. The other justices, and Mr. Barr, Fiske thought, were reduced to interested spectators. When the lawyer for the United States, James Anderson, stepped forward to deliver his argument, Knight did not even let him begin a sentence.

Why does allowing a damage suit against the Army for condoning a hostile environment for women interfere with the chain of command? she asked him.

It clearly impacts negatively on the integrity of the relationship between superior and subordinate personnel, Anderson promptly replied.

So let me see if I understand your reasoning. By allowing the military over the years to poison, gas, maim, kill and rape its soldiers with impunity, and stripping the victims of any legal recourse, that will somehow improve the relationship, the integrity, of the military and its personnel? Im sorry, but Im not quite getting the connection.

Fiske had to stop himself from laughing out loud. His respect for Knight as a lawyer and judge increased tenfold as she finished her statement. In two sentences, she had reduced the Armys entire case to the level of absurdity. He looked over at Sara. Her gaze was trained on Knight, with, Fiske thought, a great deal of pride. Anderson reddened slightly. The military, as the chief justice has pointed out, is a unique, special entity. Allowing lawsuits to fly at will can only inhibit and destroy that special bond between personnel, the need for discipline that is at the very core of military preparation and readiness.

So the military is special?

Right.

Because it serves to defend and protect us?

Exactly.

So we have the four branches of the Armed Forces which are already covered by that immunity. Why dont we extend this immunity to other special organizations? Like the fire department? The police department? They protect us. The Secret Service? They protect the president, arguably the most important person in the country. How about hospitals? They save our lives. Why not let hospitals be immune from suit in the event male doctors rape female personnel?

We are getting far outside the boundaries of this case, Ramsey said sternly.

I think those boundaries are precisely what were trying to determine, Knight fired back.

I believe thatU.S. v. Stanley Anderson began.

Im glad you mentioned it. Let me briefly recount the facts of that case, Knight said. She wanted this heard. By her fellow justices, several of whom were on the Court when the case had been decided, as well as by the public. To Knight, theStanleycase was one of the worst miscarriages of justice in history and represented everything that was wrong with the Court. That had also been Steven Wrights conclusion in his bench memo. And she intended to make those conclusions heard both today and when it came time to win a majority vote on this case. When Knight spoke, her voice was strong and resonating.

Master Sergeant James Stanley was in the Army in the fifties and volunteered for a program which he was told had to do with testing protective clothing against gas warfare. The testing was conducted in Maryland, at the Aberdeen Proving Grounds. Stanley signed up for it, but he was never asked to wear any special clothing or do testing with gas masks or anything. He only talked to some psychologists for great lengths of time about a variety of personal subjects, was given some water to drink during these sessions and that was it. In 1975, Stanley, whose life had gone downhill inexplicable behavior, discharge from the Army, divorce received a letter from the Army asking him to participate in a follow-up exam by members of the Army who had been given LSD in 1959, because the Army wanted to study the long-term effects of the drug. Under the pretense of testing clothing against gas warfare, the Army had slipped him and other soldiers LSD without his knowledge.

A collective gasp went up from the general publics seats as they heard this, and the spectators started talking to each other. Perkins actually had to bang his gavel, an almost unheard-of event. As Fiske sat there and listened, it occurred to him how important this case was. Rufus Harms had filed an appeal with this Court. Was he also seeking to sue the Army? Something terrible had happened to him while in the military. Certain men had done something to him that had ruined his life and resulted in the death of a little girl. Rufus wanted his freedom, wanted justice. He had the truth on his side, Rufus had proclaimed. And yet even with the truth, under the current law, it didnt matter. Just like Sergeant Stanley, Private Rufus Harms would lose. Knight continued, secretly well pleased with the audiences reaction. The psychologist was employed by the CIA. The CIA and the Army had undertaken a joint effort on the study of the drugs effects, because the CIA had received reports that the Soviet Union had stockpiled the drug and the Army wanted to know how it might be used against its soldiers in wartime. That sort of thing. Stanley, who rightly blamed the Army for destroying his life, sued. His case finally made it to the Supreme Court. She paused. And he lost.

Another gasp came from the public. Fiske looked around at Sara. Her eyes were still fixed on Knight. Fiske peered over at Ramsey. He was livid.

In effect, what youre asking is for this court to deny to Barbara Chance and similar plaintiffs one of the most cherished constitutional rights we possess as a people: the right to our day in court. Isnt that what youre asking? Letting the guilty go unpunished?

Mr. Anderson, Ramsey broke in. What has happened to the men who perpetrated these sexual assaults?

At least one has been court-martialed, found guilty and imprisoned, Anderson again promptly replied. Ramsey smiled triumphantly. So hardly unpunished.

Mr. Anderson, the record below clearly establishes that the actions for which the man was imprisoned have been going on for a very long time and were known to higher-ups in the Army, who declined to take any action. In point of fact only when Barbara Chance went to the local police did an investigation ensue. So tell me, have the guilty been punished?

I would say it depends on your definition of guilt.

Whos policing the military, Mr. Anderson? To make sure what happened to Sergeant Stanley doesnt happen again?

The military is policing itself. And doing a good job.

Stanleywas decided in 1986. Since that time weve had Tailhook, the still-unexplained incidents in the Persian Gulf War, and now the rape of female Army personnel. Do you call that doing a good job?

Well, every large organization will have small pockets of trouble.

Knight bristled. I rather doubt if the victims of these crimes would describe them as small pockets of trouble.

Of course, I didnt mean

When I alluded to extending immunity to police, firemen, hospitals, you didnt agree with that, did you?

No. Too many exceptions to the rule disproves the rule.

You recall theChallengerexplosion, of course? Anderson nodded. The survivors of the civilians on board the shuttle were entitled to sue the government, and the contractor that built the shuttle, for damages. However, the families of the military personnel on board were denied that right because of the immunity granted to the military by this court. Do you consider that fair?

Anderson fell back upon the old reliable. If we allow lawsuits against the military it will unnecessarily complicate the national security of this country.

And thats really the whole ball of wax, Ramsey said, pleased that Anderson had raised the point. Its a balancing act, and this court has already determined where that balance lies.

Precisely, Mr. Chief Justice, Anderson said. Its bedrock law.

Knight almost smiled. Really? I thought bedrock law was the constitutional right of citizens of this country to seek redress of their grievances before the courts. No immunity from suit was granted to the military by any law of this country. Congress did not see fit to do it. In fact, it was this court in 1950 which invented, out of broadcloth, such specialized treatment, and they apparently did so, in part, because they were afraid that allowing such suits would bankrupt the U.S. Treasury. I would hardly call that bedrock.

However, it is the controlling precedent now, Ramsey pointed out.

Precedents change, Knight replied, particularly if theyre wrong. Ramseys words truly irked her, since the chief justice had no problem overturning precedents of long standing when it suited him. Anderson said, With all due respect, I think the military is better suited to handle this matter internally, Justice Knight.

Mr. Anderson, do you dispute this courts jurisdiction or authority to hear and decide this case?

Of course not.

This court has to determine whether serving your country in the military ironically carries the price of stripping away virtually all protections one has as a citizen.

I wouldnt phrase it quite that way.

However, I would, Mr. Anderson. Its really a question of justice. She locked eyes with Ramsey. And if we cant deliver justice here, then I truly despair to think of where one could find it.

As Fiske listened to these impassioned words, he looked again at Sara. As though she somehow knew he was looking, she glanced at him. Fiske had the strong sense that she was thinking the same thing he was: Even if they somehow solved this whole mystery and the truth finally came out, would Rufus Harms ever really find justice? ["C49"]CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Josh Harms finished his sandwich and then idly smoked a cigarette as he watched his brother doze in the front seat of the truck. They were parked on an old logging road in a dense forest. Driving through the night, they had finally stopped because Josh could barely keep his eyes open, and he didnt trust his brother to drive, since Rufus hadnt been behind the wheel of a vehicle for almost thirty years. Besides, when they were on the road, Rufus, for obvious reasons, had to be in the back of the truck. Rufus had kept watch while his brother had dozed and now Josh had taken up the sentinel. They had talked during the drive about what they were going to do. Much to his own surprise, Josh found himself arguing that they shouldnt go to Mexico.

What the hells going on with you? I didnt think youd want any part of that. You said you didnt, Rufus had said in wonderment.

I didnt. But once we made up our mind hell, once I made upmymind then all Im saying is we should stick to it. I dont like being no wimp on shit like that. If youre going to do something, then you should do it.

Look, Josh, if Fiske hadnt thought real fast, wed both be dead right now. I dont want you on my conscience.

See, thats where you aint thinking. Hell, it aint going to get any worse than it is. Why dont we see what we can do to help it get better? You were right: They deserve whats coming to em. Seeing those two boys at Riders office, I almost shot em down in cold blood, and I aint never done nothing like that in my whole life. Fiske and that woman, they stood up for us. Maybe theyre shooting straight.

Rufus had stared at him. And you dont have a problem with them?

What the hell, you think Im racist? Josh had pulled out a cigarette as he said this, a grin lighting his face.

I cant figure you out, Josh.

You aint got to figure me out. I aint figured me out, and Ive had a long time to do it. All you got to do is decide if you want to go to Mexico or you want to stick it out. And dont worry about me. If theres anybody that can take care of himself, then youre looking at him.

That had done it, and as soon as his brother woke up, they were going to head back toward Virginia, hook up with Fiske and see what they could do. If it was proof that was needed, then they could get proof, somehow, some way, Josh believed. They had the truth on their side, and if that still didnt count for something, then they might as well go ahead and get themselves shot up. Josh eyed the surrounding woods. The leaves had already started to turn here, and the way the sunlight cut and dipped through the foliage presented a pleasing combination of colors and textures. He often sat in the woods when hunting; hed find an old log and rest his bones, taking in the simple beauty of the country, a marvel that didnt cost you a dime. After coming back from Southeast Asia, he had avoided the woods for several years. In Vietnam, the trees, the dirt, everything around you meant death by some of the most ingenious methods the Vietnamese could devise. He checked his watch. Another ten minutes and they would have to be on their way. He looked back out the window and squinted as the sunlight reflected off something and hurt his eyes. He sucked in his next breath instead of letting it go, spit his cigarette out the window, started the engine and put the truck in gear.

What the hell, Rufus said as he was jolted awake.

Get your gun and keep your damn head down, Josh hollered at him. Its Tremaine.

Rufus gripped his pistol and ducked down. Tremaine charged from the woods and opened fire. The first shots from the machine gun hit the tailgate of the truck, blowing out one of the lights and riddling the frame with holes. A cone of dirt kicked up in the trucks wake and momentarily blinded Tremaine, who stopped shooting and ran forward, trying desperately to get a clear field of fire on the truck. Sensing what Tremaine was trying to do, Josh cut the wheel to the left and the truck went off-road and onto what appeared to be the dry remains of a shallow creek bed. It was a good move for another reason, as Rayfield came flying down the road in the Jeep from the other direction, trying to box the truck in. Rayfield stopped to let Tremaine climb in and they went after the truck.

How in the hell did they catch up to us? Rufus wondered aloud.

Aint no sense wasting time thinking about that. Theyre here, Josh shot back. He glanced in the rearview mirror and his eyes narrowed. The Jeep was more nimble and better built to maneuver through the woods than the bulky truck.

Theyre going to shoot out the tires and then they got us like sitting ducks, Rufus said.

Yeah, well, Vic shouldve shot those tires out first thing. That was his second mistake.

What was his first?

Letting the sunlight hit his binoculars. I saw that long before I spotted that little bastard.

Lets hope they keep making mistakes.

We count on ourselves, and hope thats enough.

Back in the Jeep, Tremaine hung out the side and fired his weapon. The machine gun wasnt really worth a spit long-range, although in close quarters it could take out an entire platoon of men in a few seconds; he wanted just two. He slipped the machine gun strap off his shoulder and pulled out his sidearm.

Get as close as you can, he barked to a very nervous-looking Rayfield. If I can take out one of their tires, theyll plow right into a tree and our problems are over.

Rufus looked back through the window in the camper and saw what Tremaine was attempting to do. He slid open the glass separating the cab from the interior of the camper and drew a bead on the Jeep. He had not touched a gun in almost thirty years, basic training with a rifle his last experience with a firearm. When he fired, the explosion pierced his ears, the trucks cabin immediately full of the sickening fumes of burned metal, flashed powder. The bullet shattered the rear glass door of the camper shell and then flew at the Jeep like an angry, metal-jacketed hornet. Tremaine ducked back into his vehicle and the Jeep swerved a little.

Hit anything? Josh asked.

Bought us a little time. Rufuss hand was shaking, and he rubbed at his ears. I forgot how loud these things are.

Try firing an M-16 for three years. Theyre real loud, especially when they explode in your face. Hold on.

Josh cut the wheel to the right and then to the left to avoid several trees that had toppled across the creek bed. Beyond was a mass of scrub pines, oaks and brambles. With the Jeep closing in, Tremaine was again taking up his shooting position. Josh cut the truck to the right and through a narrow cleft in the trees and brush, leaves and slender branches slapping and tearing at the truck. But the maneuver had its intended effect because Tremaine had to duck back inside the Jeep to avoid having his head torn off by a tree limb. The Jeep slowed down. The narrow lane ahead opened up a little, and Josh decided to take advantage, hoping Rayfield was losing a little of his nerve.

Hold the wheel, he shouted to his brother. Rufus gripped the steering wheel hard, alternating between looking at his brother and eyeing where the truck was heading. Josh pulled his pistol and scanned the trees ahead. They were on a fairly level bit of ground now, so the truck didnt rock as much. He gripped the pistol with both hands, doing his best to figure distance and speed, and then selected what he wanted: a thick oak branch high up on a forty-footer. The branch was at least twenty feet long and four inches thick, with other, smaller branches growing from it, and it hung directly over the narrow lane. What had drawn Joshs attention was the fact that the branch was so long and heavy it had started to crack where it was attached to the trunk. Josh slid his arm out the window, kept it parallel to the truck, took aim and started firing. The first bullet hit the tree trunk directly above where the branch joined it. Having now gauged the trajectory, Josh continued to fire, and each bullet after that hit squarely at the juncture of branch and trunk as the truck hurtled closer. For him it wasnt that extraordinary a display of marksmanship. As a game, he had been shooting at tree branches since he was old enough to carry a.22 rifle. Scaring coons and squirrels, having fun. Still, he had never attempted it in a moving vehicle with two men shooting at him. Rufus had to keep his eyes open to steer, but he scrunched up his face with each shot. His ears were ringing so loudly you could have shouted in his face and he would not have been able to hear you. The heavy branch dropped a couple of inches as its support weakened. Josh kept firing, as sprays of wood chips shot off the oak like steam from an old train engine. Tremaine saw what he was doing. Gun it, gun it.

Rayfield hit the gas. Josh never took his eyes off the branch as he kept firing. It gave some more, and finally gravity took over and it cracked and swung down. A layer of bark clung to the tree, then the branch slapped hard against the trunk, broke free completely and started coming down. Josh slammed on the accelerator and took the steering wheel back, passing by the tree as he did so.

Go, go, Tremaine screamed at Rayfield. However, Rayfield slammed on the brakes as about a thousand pounds of tree branch smashed into the middle of the narrow lane directly in front of them. Tremaine was almost thrown from the vehicle.

Dammit, why in the hell did you stop? Tremaine looked ready to turn his pistol on the man. Rayfield was breathing very hard. If I hadnt, that damn thing wouldve crushed us. This Jeep doesnt have a hard top, Vic.

Josh looked up ahead and then to the right where the path opened up some. He braked hard, swerved to the left, swung the truck around and then headed right and gunned the motor. The truck broke free from the brush, lifted a little off the ground as it went over a shallow gully, and landed in a clearing. Rufuss head hit the top of the cabs interior as the truck came back to earth.

Damn, whatre you doing?

Just hold tight.

Josh slammed on the gas again and Rufus looked up in time to see the small shack ahead of them that his brother had spotted seconds before. Josh looked back and saw what he expected to see. Nothing. But it wouldnt take Tremaine and Rayfield long to work the Jeep around the obstacle. Josh looked past the shack at an angle and could see the road that lay beyond it. He had been right. Where there was a shack in the woods, there usually was a road. He pulled the truck around onto the other side of the old structure. Both brothers hearts sank. There was a road there, all right. But it had a large steel barricade blocking any passage. And on either side of the barricade were impenetrable woods. Josh looked back. They were trapped. Maybe he could hoof it, but Rufus wasnt built for speed, and Josh wasnt leaving his brother behind. Joshs eyes narrowed again as he looked at the shack. The Jeep would be on them in another minute or so. Even now he could hear the machine gun efficiently tearing the tree limb apart so the Jeep could shove it aside. A minute later the Jeep scaled the gully and made its way to the clearing. Rayfield slowed down as they scanned ahead and immediately saw the shack.

Whered they go? he asked. Tremaine checked the area with his binoculars and spotted the road as it snaked off through the woods. That way, he shouted, pointing ahead. Rayfield hit the gas and the Jeep shot around the corner of the shack. Instantly both men saw that the road was blocked off and Rayfield slammed the Jeep to a stop. With a roar, the truck, which had been hidden on the far side of the shack, exploded forward and hit the vehicle broadside, knocking it over on its side and flinging Rayfield and Tremaine out. Rayfield landed on top of a pile of rotted stumps, his head at a vicious angle. He lay still. Tremaine took cover behind the overturned Jeep and opened fire, forcing Josh to back the truck up, his head below the dashboard. Finally the truck engine died, steam pouring out from the hood, the front tires flattened by the machine-gun fire. Josh came out the drivers side while Rufus covered him. Josh lunged, dropped to his knees and rolled until he made it to the rear of the truck, and then he peered out. Tremaine hadnt moved from his position. Josh could see the tip of the machine gun. Tremaine was probably putting in another clip just as Josh was doing, and taking a moment to study the tactical situation. Joshs heart was pounding, and he rubbed at his eyes to clear the dirt and sweat away. He had been in many battles on both foreign and American soil, but the last one had been almost thirty years ago. Besides, it didnt matter: Every time, you were terrified that you were going to die. When somebody was shooting at you, it didnt exactly make you think more clearly. You reacted more than anything else. Josh had an edge, though. There were two of them and only one of Tremaine. Josh peered out once more and then sprinted from behind the truck and made it to the edge of the shack.

Rufus, he hollered. On the count of three.

Start counting, Rufus shouted back, tremors of fear in his voice. Three seconds later Josh opened fire on Tremaine, the bullets pinging off the Jeeps frame. Rufus hustled to the back of the truck. He was stopped there, however, when Tremaine managed to fire a burst between the truck and the shack. The air smelled of gunfire, and of the sweat of frightened men. Josh and Rufus looked at each other, and then Josh cracked a smile, sensing the rising panic in his brother.

Hey, Vic, Josh yelled out, how bout you throw down that damn widowmaker and come on out with your hands up?

Tremaine responded by blowing a chunk of wood off the shack a little above Joshs head.

Okay, okay, Vic, I hear you. Now, you be cool, you hear me, little buddy? Dont you worry, well bury you and Rayfield. Aint gonna leave you for the bears and shit to chew on. Thats bad shit. Animals eating dead bodies. You saw that in Nam, didnt you, Vic? Or maybe you was running too fast the other way to see that. While he was talking, Josh was motioning for Rufus to stay put and then pointing around the shack to show his brother what he was going to do. Rufus nodded to show he understood. Josh was going to try to flush the man into his brothers field of vision and let Rufus cut him down. Rufus gripped his gun and slipped in a new clip, grateful that his brother had taken the time to show him how. He was having trouble breathing; his arms felt heavy holding the gun. He was afraid that he would not have the nerve, the killer instinct, much less the skill to shoot the man down, even if Tremaine came at him, firing with that damn machine gun. Rufus had fought many men in prison in order to survive with his hands only, even though his opponents had always been armed with a shiv or piece of pipe. But a gun was different. A gun could kill from a distance. But if he didnt shoot, his brother would die. And for once he could not pray to God to help him. He could not speak to his Lord for assistance in killing another. In a half crouch, Josh made his way across the front of the shack, stopping at intervals to listen intently. Once he dared to raise his head up to one of the windows, in order to perhaps see through it and out the rear window to where the Jeep was, but the angle was wrong and his view was blocked. Josh was totally focused now. The fear was still there, it was very much there, but he had done his best to transform it into adrenaline, to heighten every sense he possessed. He pointed his pistol directly in front of him, knowing full well that if Tremaine had figured what his plan was, his best course of action would be to slip out from behind the Jeep and come around the shack the other way, with the result that he would meet Josh head-on somewhere in the middle. Machine gun against pistol, a hundred rounds to one, meaning Josh would die, and then so would Rufus. He moved forward another foot. Then he heard the machine gun open fire again and listened as the bullets tore into the pickup truck. He raced forward and rounded the corner. While Tremaine was busy firing at Rufus, Josh could outflank him and silence the sonofabitch once and for all. This plan vanished when he went around the corner, for Tremaine was standing there, his pistol pointed at Joshs head. An astonished Josh stopped so abruptly that his feet slid in the gravel and his legs went out from under him. This was fortunate, since the bullet slammed into his shoulder instead of his brain. His momentum carried him forward and his legs clipped Tremaines, and they went down hard, both their pistols sailing out of reach. Tremaine came up first; Josh, holding his bloody shoulder, was slower to rise. Tremaine pulled a knife from his belt. In the background the machine gun stopped firing. Josh yelled out as Tremaine lunged into him and both men hit the wall of the shack, shaking the primitive structure right down to its wooden joints. Josh managed to block Tremaines arm with his forearm. His whole side hurt like hell. Whatever piece of ordnance was in him had gone beyond his shoulder to explore other parts of his body. He managed to kick at Tremaine and caught him once in the belly, but the man was up and was on Josh again in an instant. Josh felt the knife cut through his shirt and into his side, and he started to lose consciousness. The pain from this fresh wound was barely felt, so overwhelmed was it by the first. He could hardly make out the image of Tremaine pulling the knife free from his body and rearing his arm back for a final thrust. Probably at his throat, Josh dimly thought, as his brain started to shut down. The throat was quick and always fatal. Thats what he would do, he thought, as the darkness started to close around him. The knife never made its downward plunge. It stopped at its highest point and moved no closer to Josh Harms. Tremaine kicked and jerked as he was torn off the wounded man. Rufus was directly behind him. One hand gripped the wrist holding the knife. He smashed it against the shack until Tremaines finger lock was finally broken and the knife dropped to the ground. Tremaine was solid muscle and superbly trained in hand-to-hand combat. But he was half Rufuss size. One on one, there were few men who could match Rufus. The big man was like a grizzly bear once he got hold of somebody. And he had a good hold of Vic Tremaine, the man who had made his life a nightmare hed thought would never end. As Tremaine tried to wedge a forearm against Rufuss windpipe, Rufus changed his tactic and lifted Tremaine completely off the ground, slamming his face again and again into the wall until Tremaine was groggy from the impacts, his face bloody. Finally Rufus put Tremaines head right through the window, the jagged glass cutting deeply into the mans face. Then Josh screamed in pain from his wounds, and Rufus looked at him, his grip loosening a bit. Tremaine, sensing this, kicked out Rufuss knee and whip-sawed an elbow into his kidney, dropping the big man to the ground. Tremaine rolled free, gripped his knife and lunged toward the defenseless man. The bullet hit him smack in the back of the head and dropped him on the spot. Rufus heaved upward and looked at his brother, wisps of smoke still seeping from the barrel of the 9mm Josh held. Then he put the pistol down and lay back in the dirt. Rufus raced over and knelt next to him. Josh! Josh?